Glory
by burrblefish
Summary: In a world where nobility rules the lands, war peeks just beyond the horizon. Lady Sakura—Lord Sasuke's ex-wife—proves that she's far more than a pretty trophy. :: MultiSaku AU
1. 0 Prologue

**• Rated M for language and later content** **•**

* * *

 **GLORY**

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

Three years ago, the Royal Uchiha Court sent out twenty-some heralds into the surrounding villages with a message. From various posts, armed with long, bronze trumpets and the uchiwa fan emblazoned on cloth and on horses, carriers of the decree ushered in members of the populace—merchants, tailors, maidens, impoverished alike—to tell of news.

News of a divorce.

This was met with varying degrees of both enthusiasm and despair—the royal couple of the Northern Uchiha Kingdom had decided on a matrimonial separation. And _y_ _es_ —this, a phrase many civilians had to pause and re-cycle through their heads—the Lord and Lady would be no more.

Divided into two, with one side heavily outweighing the other, the people of the land reacted in differing ways.

Some cackled snidely, celebrating and rejoicing and greatly embracing the fact that their _beautiful, beautiful_ God of a Lord would no longer harbor that "harlot" and finally be rid of her. "Of course this would happen." Of course the Lord has finally understood that that wicked, disgusting, gold-digging _wench_ had no place beside a man of such caliber with tastes far more extravagant and vastly than _her_. The damned whore. The damned little witch—"finally, she can go back to her no-body village and rule her dirty people!"

Perhaps she never satisfied him—"who would be satisfied with something as plain an eyesore as her?" Perhaps he grew bored and tired and perhaps she was a frigid woman—or _too_ _frivolous_?—and her "lack of political prowess and control" did little to make up for it. A worthless, pathetic "Lady" she was.

Oh yes, with her gone, now was the opportune moment to show their God of a Lord just _who_ was a better suited woman for him in _all_ the ways that counted.

Ah, a minor percentage—angry and spiteful and loud as they may be—had thoughts that closely paralleled these.

The majority—mostly silent but with _so_ much more numbers—believed in the opposite.

One man (who happened to be in town shopping for dinner when his pregnant wife could no longer bear walking with such a swollen belly) had gone home to break the news to her. She stared at him with eyes so _blue_ and so _lost_ , and he could do nothing but hold her as she wept—could do nothing but silently begin packing what little they owned and think about the next few carriages that could take them to a neighboring village.

An elderly woman carefully drew into her tea shop, fleetingly wondering whether she should stop a herald and ask to give the last of the Lady's favorite brews directly to her, or if she should begin the long process of moving in with her son's family in a faraway town.

Two young girls and a little boy stopped in their game of catch, clutching their worn ball between trembling hands and having to be told in slower words that _Miss Uchiha_ could no longer visit and give them another new toy. This ball would be her last.

Their O Merciful—the Beloved Lady of the Northern Uchiha Kingdom—would take with her the beacon that she once created. The village's pillar of hope would leave.

This—this great majority felt the defeat reach corners of the soul. Exhaustion that ran bone-deep—once forgotten when the Lady wedded Lord Uchiha seven years prior—returned with such a vengeance, that some felt far too lost to even think about tomorrow.

Dramatic as it seemed, people such as them needed light when all they knew was harrowing sadness and tiredness and _nothingness_. Lord Uchiha was no demon, but he was no saint either. He was a neutral party.

But _she_...

She was the vast oasis in a place that looked like the desert on all four horizons.

Her betrothal and marriage to the Lord brought a whole of rain in the face of a drought. As His Highness handled matters overseas and stood with his Council, discussing peace talks and war efforts and cycling through torrents of national security and international affairs, Her Highness was at the forefront of domestic issues.

The Lady halved the impoverished population by increasing food supply; this, accomplished by carefully planning with village leaders on crops and calculating harvests for maximum yield. She got in touch with contacts from various lands, importing in plants that could be grown in spring, and plants for fall - food would be available all year. Under her instruction, the village that once held a mere three total house doctors now had over fifteen true apothecaries, plus two small, functioning clinics. Schools were built, shelters erected.

She brought together the village under organized events, sending royal couriers to the four corners of the town for planning festivals and celebrations. The children had a Christmas and the adults had their holidays to spend with families and their elderly and their relatives near and far.

Where the Lord was the mighty shield and sword, the Lady was the cornucopia, the hearth of a fireplace.

Yes, dramatic as it seemed, the light these people needed took the form of this woman.

Every definition of a true ruler, a true mother of her people and a true Queen of the royal court, spelled out her name. It was this that the majority held onto for dear life and forgot their many woes, their bone-deep exhaustion and their tear-streaked faces.

Lord Uchiha was a passive man concerned with fortifying defense and handling affairs. But it was _she_ who showed mercy. They were the perfect court to their people, the perfect independent _halves_ of a dependent _whole._

During the few occasions when the Royal Couple decided to make appearances through town—may it be to ride carriages to various balls or to attend affairs or simply to send rallying phrases and give speeches about the Will of Fire—the reclusive Lady would be there. Alongside her husband, either sitting pleasantly by him, standing behind him, or with her small, dainty hand coveted in the inner curve of the Lord's elbow, the people stared in awe at their King and their Queen.

Past the film of delicacy, grace, and patience sat a long-drawn steele of regale, intellect, and warmth. She was true. Sincere. The epitome of what divine beings could bless the earth with.

This—

Oh yes, _this_ —

—all of which Lord Uchiha cared _naught_.

The man had other "matters" to tend to alongside all of the nitty-gritty, heavy-handed politics.

It was a known fact that the Northern Uchiha Kingdom's Lord had a harem of a dozen concubines and as of late, one particular woman birthed an affair with him. Highly entangled in a brazen, passionate, red-stained storm of lust and love and everything in between, Lord Uchiha spent night after night at his Mistress' side. Part of the reason for divorce was _her_. The temptation of secrecy persuaded him.

 _Mistress Karin_ persuaded him.

Hot and sexual and sensual and _everything_ that the Lady could not give him, could not _be_ for him. He spent late, greedy hours tangled in the sheets of a chamber in an opposite wing from his shared quarters with his wife. Time whisked away when heavy breaths and grunts and groans of their lovemaking stole minutes and hours from him.

Lady Uchiha was not stupid.

The tears stopped long, _long_ before anyone could possibly notice. She'd been sleeping in a bed half cold; it didn't take a genius to know where he ran off to.

So when he spoke that one fateful night a little over four years ago, she knew exactly what he would propose.

He, sitting across from her in their lonesome, large dining room and accompanied by few standby servants and maids, sawed his meat into fourths and fifths with his steak-knife using all the masculine grace he possessed. Lord Uchiha hadn't even bothered to glance up when he chose to deliver the true, killing blow to the remains of their sham of a marriage.

 _"You have seven days to vacate the castle and return to your kingdom,"_ he'd said between sips of red wine. _'Divorce'_ didn't even need to be mentioned. Nothing else needed to be mentioned, for zero room allowed it. Neither remorseful nor cold, simply indifferent—he'd done it as if he were merely commenting on the weather.

When she didn't respond for some time—not a single peep—he looked up.

She regarded him with those same, professionally-set viridian eyes. Those gorgeous, gleaming twin shades of forestry peered at him as if she were speaking to a diplomat. Not her husband. Admittedly, he felt somewhat surprised to be at the receiving end of a look she usually reserved for royal affairs. Unable to glance away, he remained still as she stared at him like he were another man of politics and she had a deal to close.

Offhandedly, he realized he couldn't read her.

The straight line of her shoulders stayed unmoving for several moments until she broke posture to grip her own wine glass. Putting it up to him in gesture of a toast—the smile on her lips somehow sardonic—her mouth finally parted and outed a mere six words with an indifference that rivaled his.

 _"I can do it in two."_

* * *

Young children who read one too many fairytales, and young maidens too hopeful for their own good, believed that marriage was a holy event—the gods bore witness to the true bond of two people in love and blessed it with their own hands, promising them to each other until "death did them part." Their connection was deemed unbreakable and uncompromising with fortitude that rivaled the very earth they stood on. At the heart of a marriage also lied trust, commitment, and the ability to _share._

This included the intangible things such as love, space, time, thoughts, happiness—and yes—also the tangible. Sharing belongings, food, shelter, money. Sometimes even _power_. When one was a noble—a member of the royal class—marriage almost _always_ included power.

In this sense then, love came second. Sometimes third. Fifth. Tenth. Thirtieth. _Last_.

Sometimes even _never_.

Sometimes love simply had no room in this equation.

This was something that Lady Uchiha—no, Lady _Haruno_ —pondered absently two days following that particular dinner, beside a line of carriages that stood parallel to the road leading away from the Uchiha castle. This thought festered quietly in the back of her head as she peered through the lace fringe of her periwinkle Victorian hat, surveying the servants moving her belongings around.

 _As a matter of fact,_ she offhandedly thought. _Love hadn't made an appearance at all._

Tucking away a stray lock of carnation hair, she barely threw a glance sideways before returning her eyes at the forefront of her head.

"You're a busy man," she mused softly, unbothered when he hardly regarded her. "You've no real reason to be here when you have important matters to attend to."

"You _are_ an important matter," he replied, and she silently cursed the gentle thrum of her heartbeat at his words. "Divorcing changes things."

She resisted the urge to sigh. Of course he'd be here for that. _Of course_ he was there for _that_.

"I've already spoken to our— _your_ —lawmen and the pastors and the Council." She gazed at a boy struggling with a heavier set of luggage, valiantly rescued by another servant, and together they helped load the big box. "Our marriage is annulled and all that is yours is yours except what you have given me."

It felt little more than defeat when she absently tasted the words she spoke. It felt like she was giving up and giving in and it was an ugly feeling.

But did it hurt as much as _this_?

 _Love hadn't made an appearance at all,_ she recounted in the safety of her head, _on his end. On mine..._ —

"Good."

Pursing her lips in a manner she was sure he wouldn't see, she folded her hands together at her lower abdomen, thoughtfully brushing her fingers against the smooth periwinkle cloth adorning her body. Nonchalance grew both increasingly harder and increasingly easier when done before him.

But before she left she had to know. She had to know that—

"Sasuke," she called oh-so softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He froze instantaneously, for she never called him by his lone first name unless they were in their chambers together, alone and only in eachother's company. If she noticed his stillness, she commented naught of it, too engrossed in her personal surprise at daringly calling him by his given name so suddenly.

He sucked in air subtly, firmly reminded of who he was speaking to—of the history they shared.

The day he'd gained her hand, under the scrutinizing stare of the Uchiha Council, did two sixteen-year-old strangers exchange meaningless, binding vows. This would tie her kingdom to his. And though at twenty-five, they were supposed to achieve Duke and Duchess titles at the hands of their combined Council in a show of unrelenting power, their marriage ended two years short. Seven total years made up their history together. Nine would've seen the both of them at a joined coronation and crowning.

Seven years. Gone.

Now they'd achieve the titles separately. Her, with her kingdom. Him, here, with Karin beside him.

She spoke again and his derailed thoughts returned on-course.

"...Promise me. That you will... this _village_..."

Yes. Yes, that.

—the village was in good hands.

Karin would have no problem taking over. He knew how much Sakura did for the town when he was away. He understood this.

But it would work out. The stars aligned in their favor. _The village_...

"The village will be fine," he murmured. "Karin is capable."

She stiffened just the slightest bit, so minutely that she was sure he hadn't noticed. Hearing the Mistress' name proved to still be as poisonous to her blood as the day she first discovered what her husband was doing late at night _every_ night. She forced a nod.

"I see."

Four of the five carriages began moving, the wheels creaking due to great usage. Hooves clattered and the crack of a whip thundered through the air, forcing eight total horses on their way down the long road away from the town. When the final approaching carriage halted before her and the coach scrambled to get down, Lord Uchiha stopped him with a gesture of his hand. Rather, he pulled open the carriage door himself. An action that he figured would be the last of its kind—that would complete this chapter in both their lives.

Glancing diagonally down his side, he was unsurprised to see she denied him any glimpse of her face. The lip of her great feathered hat casted some shadow over the length of her face, only the two pretty pink petals of her mouth detectable in the mid-noon sun. He regarded this with little care, instead accepting the act of protection as the beginning of their final moments.

Should they ever meet again after this, it'd be as diplomats. As opposite parties in a royal, political plane.

Perhaps in due time, he could potentially reach out to Senju castle again, prod around to see if he could find permanent allyship (like with Namikaze Castle) in the reclusive final kingdom of Fire Country. Surely it'd be beneficial in war-time. Perhaps—

"Your Highness," she murmured quietly, and he noted the distant tone her voice carried, paired with the lack of his given name. Their final chapter drew rapidly to a close.

Offering one hand—of which she took not unkindly but not familiarly—he helped her up the high step of the carriage until she was seated. Before letting go, he went with the low instinct bellied in his gut and settled a final, cold kiss upon the gentle grooves of her knuckles. The touch was brief and not unlike usual greetings in a formal setting.

"Safe travels," he muttered, glancing at her with newfound resolve to regard her in a different light. Now that she wasn't his wife. "We will keep in touch, Lady Haruno."

Silently and for some time, she'd deny how painfully sharp the surname change was for the oncoming days, especially at the way he'd thrown it directly in her face. But she'd grow thankful for it after a few months. And in about a year, she'd forget the tumultuous state her heart was in.

"Of course, Lord Uchiha."

* * *

 **Guess who's back? After like, hundreds of _years_ —**

 **Ah, and before anything else may be said. Yes, I use em dashes a _whole_ lot (personally love how it breaks up a story and adds informal elements). And yes, this is an AU, therefore all the family ties and kingdom set ups and whatnot isn't what it's _supposed_ to be.**

 **The beauty of fiction.**

 **But there will be some scenes that'll closely parallel/mimic canon, which will be fun. A lot of this story is already outlined and simply needs to be fleshed out—so yes, I know the ending. Very little will cause me to change anything I've planned out. This WILL see its end and will not be abandoned like my other stories (which are for the most part, lacking inspiration but will find an end somehow).**

 **This _is_ MultiSaku and there _will_ be fighting, Powerful!Sakura (but surely not _"Perfect!Sakura"_ ), and mature scenes/themes. I do ask you keep a pretty open mind, considering the setting of the story.  
**

 **I know the climate of the fandom has changed and people _can_ be mean and nit-picky now. But I'm doing this all in good fun and I hope you enjoy.**

 **I love you guys. Thank you (:**

 **\- burrblefish**


	2. I Genesis

**• Rated M for language and later content** **•**

* * *

 **GLORY**

* * *

 **I. _Genesis_**

* * *

It has once been said that life itself resembles a grand game of chess. Rearranged time and time over, against countless enemies aiming to strike down the opposing king and any of his infantry. Life resembles this checkered board; those who are smarter at reading the opponent are always a step, two steps, _three_ ahead.

In this way, yes, the one who made the moves first do not always get to make the last.

Where the White King may be bold and powerful at knocking down its foes, the Black King is undetectable. Slick and clever and unseen until he kills a Knight, chokes a Bishop, and strongarms the Queen—he is a fearsome man unafraid of using dirty tactics.

By rule of game, no, he, in fact, does _not_ make the first move.

Rather, he makes the most _critical_ ones.

* * *

Never before in his twenty-five years of life did Sasuke feel such extreme rage and betrayal.

The decree in his hands began to crumple and tear under the feral grip of his fingers and if he so willed it to, it might've even caught fire. At this, Kakashi stilled one eye on. Temper was never one of Lord Uchiha's strong suits.

"Your...Highness," his Royal Advisor addressed, carefully selecting words to avoid feeding the flames that threatened to leave the Lord's lips. "Are you certain that _that's_ what you read?"

When wintery black turned to him, he hardly flinched. Rather, he moved his usual apathetic disposition into place for it did little harm in these sort of situations. Nostrils flaring, the noble man shoved the parchment towards his advisor, throwing a nasty, punctual look..

Kakashi took what he was given, unassuming eyes raking across words and lines, hardening the further down he got.

No, there was no denying that seal. The uchiwa fan, flanked by a raven's wing. The signature. The title.

 _Lord Duke Itachi of the Southern Uchiha Kingdom._

But it didn't seem _right_.

That was the immediate conclusion Kakashi unashamedly drew up.

"He's a good man, Sasuke." The stiffening of his form was enough of a reaction at hearing his given name, but Kakashi forged through. "He wouldn't turn tail and abandon a village full of people who believe in him."

"But he _did_ ," Sasuke spat, acid so intricately sewed into his words that it turned them into venom. "Don't you see? _He_ planned this! The Lord of Ame _pillaged_ his town and he does _what_? He gives up his power and goes to serve that damned Pein. He's nothing but a _traitor_."

Gathering the damnable thing that decreed his _brother's_ forfeit of his land, he threw it—paper and wood and all—straight into the fireplace that crackled in this chamber. It missed, clattering to the ground in mockery, and he nearly tore his own hair out. Dangerously flaring his nostrils, he moved to exit when his advisor stepped in.

Though the darkened look that he threw would've sent any lesser man running, Advisor Hatake stood tall and firm. The color of his eye stirred between a deep cobalt blue and a weary grey, wisdom sketched across the planes of his irises. Sasuke momentarily let his shoulders lax, cursed, then visibly flexed in a challenge.

" _Move_."

"Sasuke."

The Uchiha could've roared if he had any less respect for the man before him. He settled on a seething glare that he—unfortunately—knew would have little affect.

"All I'm saying is that you think about this." Kakashi gave an insistent look, lips pursed somewhere under that great scarlet scarf that usually adorned his neck and chin. "Obito and I—we worked with Itachi under your father during the last war. I was his advisor _before_ Shisui stepped in, and then I came here—I watched him grow, I _know_ him—"

"People change, Kakashi," Sasuke interrupted harshly, no longer able to stand the way his heart twisted and screamed in his own chest. He _knew_ his brother was a good man. Their childhood consisted of nothing but happiness and laughter and when their father entrusted them with halves of the total Uchiha land before his death, they ruled like two sides of a coin—two moons in a night. His brother. His greatest motivation.

But that didn't mean good men weren't capable of evil. This was a lesson taught to him long, _long_ ago.

"Fact of the matter is—Lord Pein invaded, Itachi didn't defend. He _left_ his people," he inputted acerbically. "That piece of paper is _proof_ ; Itachi gave me his half of the land and relinquished his title. He's an enemy of mine now—of _every_ state of ours now."

"And signing an alliance with Orochimaru will fix it?"

" _What choice do I have?!"_ the lord roared, weary and tired and utterly defeated.

Sasuke released a sigh so heavy and bone-deep, he felt his shoulders slump to accompany it. The total feeling of betrayal and hurt, of desperation and disbelief, finally came tumbling down and it felt so _fucking_ horrible. So outright insane.

"...What choice do I have?"

Such a small voice... His advisor stared, yearning to put back together the fallen pieces of his Lord.

Kings were strong, built with fortitude to rival steel and with minds so carefully set that it would take the weight of the Sun to knock down.

But Kings were _human_ , too. And he's seen one too many men fall until they were nothing but boys with only the clothes on their backs and the skin of their teeth. Shaking, frail young things—yes, humans were such beings. Such delicate beings.

And Sasuke? The young man he was around to see grow up? The one he taught, he guided, he mentored and trained to become the iron-hearted Lord he saw today?

Perhaps one of the most delicate of them all.

With a heavy-hearted exhale, Kakashi propped one hand onto the Lord's sagging shoulder, drawing vulnerable, lost eyes up to him. His chest thumped in response at the look. _Oh, Sasuke..._

"I know," he whispered carefully, searching for something—anything—to ease his dearest student. " _I know_. But Orochimaru is _not_ the answer."

Sasuke, frustrated, clenched his fists and wiped his hand down his face in an act of exhaustion. "Then _what_ is? We hardly have time and he has the resources and power we— I— _need_. If Itachi... if Itachi's doing something like this, no one is safe—"

"—you're implying a potential war."

The air felt thick with solemnity.

"Do you want to hear what I have to say?"

Sasuke stayed silent. Kakashi continued.

"As your mentor and friend, no—don't interrupt me— _no_. I _don't_ think Itachi is this kind of man. Deep down, I know you agree with me, Sasuke." One pause and bated breath. "But as you said, we have facts and we have a reason to feel threatened. Now. As your advisor?"

He waved his hand and a nearby servant boy quickly bowed his head, off to retrieve the Royal Informant. Determination set Kakashi's brow in a hard frown.

"We have our own allies. If we need help, it's _not_ going to be from some _snake_. It's going to be from people we can trust."

* * *

Tugging hard on the reigns of his ride, the Lord Duke of the Southern Hyuuga Kingdom brought his stallion to a perfect halt. As the horse so lovingly called "Aki" neighed softly and steadily, hooves clacking, the young Lord dismounted his beautiful ride.

Though his posture told of a steely regale and his face exuded some stern disposition, his large, slim hands—rough and graceful and calloused—ran rather gently through his companion's great, midnight mane. Undoing his horseback-riding vest, he tossed it aside to a nearby stable boy and ordered him to fetch an apple.

 _Make note of wishing Lady Hanabi a happy birthday soon_ , he fleetingly remembered, combing through Aki's locks. Something about the action calmed both ride and rider in the aftermath of a good run. Powerful man and animal fell truly hand in hand on the field, may it be for leisure or for battle. _And call for a routine veterinarian for Aki._

Taking the fetched apple, he went on to feed his companion.

Just as the chill of the early spring air passed through to ease the creaking in his bones, a new presence—his Royal Advisor and the Earl of his kingdom—made himself known with four apathetic strides and a rolled parchment in his hand.

"Lord Neji," he drawled slowly, any sense of respect left on the slimmer side. Not that Neji minded all too much coming from a long-time friend, although the urge to twitch was slightly hard to resist.

He settled for a simple, "Shikamaru."

Addressed advisor teetered the message in his hand in something that could only be described as a half-serious, half-irritated gesture. "You've a message from the Uchiha Kingdom. Lord Sasuke to be exact."

The Hyuuga Lord scoffed. "Wonderful."

Now the two weren't the best of friends, but not quite enemies either. Competitive acquaintances might be the better term; their kingdoms were in unspoken peace with each other by default, hailing from the same country and circling to defend the same central Capitol of Konoha.

In the old days, four clans fought for ownership of all of Fire Country, but when battles raged and people were lost as a price for the pillage, a single man stepped up. The First King, they called him, ordered for amends to be made, and thus the vast lands were sliced into fourths—all these, circling the small heart called Konoha. No people lived in the miniscule, dense forest—the only population it owned was the Memorial Stone where names from the Great Wars bearing the Will of Fire were carved.

The Uchiha and the Hyuuga were two bloods cut from the same cloth, birthed from a single string of faraway ancestors. Egotistic, self-righteous, prideful with a hint of cold poise—perhaps their distant cousin-hood and their century-long ice feuds were what made Neji and Sasuke butt heads.

Of course, perhaps the single thing they do— _did_ (pardon him, the divorce slipped his mind)—share was taste in women. Beautiful, graceful, intellectual little flowers. Oh, _there was the yearning again._

Briefly, he wondered how _she_ was doing after—

 _Ah—_

No.

His heart painfully hammered against the sore ribs of his chest.

 _That's the past._

And so—switching thought—this was why Neji felt displeased at the sound of the Lord Uchiha's name. Curious, too (after hurriedly wiping away painfully fond memories). Surely, all the small celebrations, such as formal balls and affairs, were a country-wide thing and required no direct messages. And the two hardly called eachother " _friend_."

So what was this?

Taking the rolled paper from his advisor, he unfurled the parchment and began to absorb all that it owned.

Nearby, Shikamaru took to softly petting Aki's muzzle, the smallest bit of glee turning uninterested blacks into doe-eyed baby browns.

 _Man, I miss the deer from mother's farm..._

"...Shikamaru."

The addressed man looked up, half confused, half cautious at the tone of voice his Lord had taken on.

Neji looked the epitome of distressed, one hand locked tight on his paper, the other handling the wood with something akin to vice. Those eyes of his appeared more ghostly in their moon-like shine, stark white and massively grim.

"...My Lord?"

"Have an informant relay information to Lady Hinata and the north family. And send Lee to assemble a carriage and prepare for a trip to the Northern Uchiha Kingdom."

Shikamaru withdrew the hand that touched Aki, wary and sober with thoughts swirling through his head. Uchiha delivered bad news, didn't he?

"We may have a war, Shikamaru. And we've very little time to prepare by the looks of it."

* * *

The halls of Namikaze castle boomed bright and warm with laughter as Lord Naruto roamed, belly full of his favorite noodles and heart brimming with happiness. Truly, nothing catered to the soul like the loving embrace of ramen and he'd attest to that as many times as his body required him to.

"Gotta hand it to Chouji!" he mused aloud, turning a corner and grinning brightly at a pair of maidservants giggling at his odd behavior. He gave a short wave to dismiss them and threw open the doors to his study (where he'd take his customary post-noodle nap). "Hiring him as my chef _seriously_ changed my life for the better!"

"Your arteries must really be screaming 'help, we're trapped inside of a dimwit'."

At the sound of a new voice—so familiar and nearly paternal—Naruto paused and all but let his jaw unhinge to the floor.

" _Pervert!"_

His accusatory finger made for a very tempting snack, Jiraiya entertained, entirely prepared to chomp off the offending phalange. The snow-haired sage settled for glaring as best he could, Stamping down Naruto's screams with very little result.

"Will you _shut up_ ," he demanded, choosing to throw a good slap to the head at the Uzumaki Lord. Said ruler clutched the new bump forming on his noggin, cradling himself like an injured animal.

"You cruel, peeping tom," he muttered, cowering away again when another punch loomed near. "A-Anyways, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't supposed to come back from another one of your trips for like, months."

Settling back into his informal cross-legged position on top of an empty corner of Naruto's messy desk, the sage folded his arms thoughtfully.

And then he reached out, undoing one of the packs on his person to toss a parchment at the blonde.

Snatching it from the air, Naruto started to read, brow deepening in furrow the further he got.

"What...?"

"Trouble in paradise, if anything," Jiraiya offered, his once easygoing nature replaced by a demeanor of long-grown wisdom. "Seems Lord Itachi has given up his land, defected, and now serves under the Lord of Ame."

 _Okay, what?_

"That's... That's _stupid!"_

The sage raised a brow. "Naruto—"

"No! No, no, no."

 _What in the sheer hell_ — _?_

"Itachi isn't like that!" He let the parchment roll close with a click, firm determination steeling his shoulders. "Itachi loves Sasuke like he's his damn _son!_ You can _see_ it. Why would he go and do something like that? It makes _no_ sense."

"Naruto, while I would encourage seeing the good in people, you have to face facts."

No...

No, that just _isn't possible_. They were talking about the guy who looked at his younger brother as if he were the stars in the sky, the man who'd die long before he ever had to put his sibling anywhere near danger.

 _He's not like that. This can't be right._

But Jiraiya only shook his head, reading his godson's thoughts easily. Believe what he might—reasoning still needed to be made.

"Naruto. Itachi is with Rain Country—and you know how Fire feels about them. He is an enemy of the state now and _this?"_ He pointed at the paper clutched between the Lord's fingers. " _This_ is hinting at a _war._ Sasuke—and no doubt Kakashi, too—they're aware of what this could lead to. You _know_ the Uchiha. You know how dangerous this can be if Pein has recruited him."

"But..." _But nothing_. His words left him.

Call him stupid all you wanted, but Naruto wasn't an ignorant man. More observant, actually—more than he seemed.

He hated this. Hated it more than _anything_ , but Jiraiya was right. His sagely wisdom hardly made an appearance but when it _did_ —

"...I'll leave again. And I'll be passing east towards Wind Country with a message to Gaara. If... a war is in the making, we _need_ to prepare."

—oh, he was rarely ever wrong.

* * *

Shizune sighed softly, shutting the door to Lady Tsunade's chambers. Really, the woman needed to let up on the drinking (oh, the screams of her tortured liver).

Wiping her hands off on her skirt, the raven-haired woman turned on her heel and began the trek towards the new Lady, grateful for how much more pleasant the pinkette was compared to her mother.

Honestly—look at their temper and their ferocity and they were of the same blood. But in terms of company, Lady Sakura was just the better of the two.

 _No offense, Lady Tsunade. These are just facts,_ she quickly amended.

As she paced down the long corridor, she came across a lesser chambermaid—a mousy little thing, new to the job and still jumpy when it came to the upper class. Sternly, Shizune loomed over the small girl with a hand on her hip and a brow quirked.

"What are you doing outside of the maids' quarters?" she asked rather demandingly. Running a tight ship such as a whole _castle_ required more than just dilly-dally. She was no head maid—a _Lady in Waiting_ for the Queen, actually—but had no qualms about manning the operation like one.

The small brunette squeaked, shielding herself using some parchment with trembling hands.

"I-I came to deliver a message!" she tried to explain frantically, knees knocking together from shaking. "A-A royal courier from the Uchiha Kingdom left this with me while I laundered some sheets!"

 _Uchiha?_

Shizune paused thoughtfully, crossed between stunned and confused.

 _What would the Lady's ex-husband want?_

Wondering absently on what the nature of the parchment could possibly be about, but unwilling to look because privacy was a foundation of trust, the dark-haired woman jutted out a waiting hand. "I will hand it to the Lady."

The small brunette looked all too relieved at relinquishing her hold on the thing, dropping it ungracefully and bowing hurriedly. She rushed away, mumbling something about tending to the gardens, but Shizune was already down the hall.

Were they still in touch without her knowing?

For how long?

It couldn't have been just after the divorce. Lady Haruno was an absolute wreck when she returned (and besides, Lord Hyuuga was around during a portion of the aftermath). Shizune doubted Her Highness would continue contact with a man such as Uchiha.

Perhaps they rekindled their relationship?

 _No_ , she firmly set down, eyeing the Lady's doors. _She would tell me. And Lord Sasuke still has his Mistress._

Resolved, she knocked on the entrance and waited for the affirmative. When a low, "come in" gave permission, she pushed aside the great oaks and gave an inclination of the head, greeting her Lady.

The aforementioned woman sat at her vanity, mid-move in brushing the length of her carnation hair..

Realizing she was late and her Lady started her nightly routine without her, Shizune excused herself and rushed to her side, quickly taking the silver-plated brush from Her Highness' hand. Running it through soft locks, Sakura nodded gratefully, gentle greens smiling in the mirror.

"Did my mother keep you?" she mused, humor coloring her words.

The dark-haired woman huffed quietly. "Really, one day she'll drink herself into a coma or something," she insisted. "Were she not such a good Queen regardless of her sobriety level, I would've driven her into the ground for it."

"Bless that it doesn't run in the family," Sakura offered, laughing impishly at the groan her Lady in Waiting made. "Otherwise you'd be dealing with _two_ hopeless alcoholics."

"Oh, don't even _remind_ me."

"Tell you what." And Shizune leaned in close, almost in a mock, conspiratorially manner. "For your troubles, I _could_ give you a night off at the same time—coincidentally, of course—as one Genma Shiranui—"

" _Lady Sakura!"_ the ravenette hissed, flushing a pretty red at the implications Her Highness appealed. "I don't—"

"Oh, come on. _I_ hear his acupuncture techniques can do _more_ than ease muscle pain, you know. Maybe with the right places, he can lead a girl to a _damn_ good org—"

Shizune slapped down the brush, no longer able to take the dizzying blush burning her face. _Honestly_. Fuck what she said about her and Lady Tsunade being different. The damned snickering brat was _just_ like her mother.

"You're _horrible_."

"Am I now?" Sakura mused wickedly, reigning in her laughter. As she glanced at the lying brush on her vanity table, she caught sight of the parchment her Lady in Waiting previously lowered upon entrance. "Shizune?"

"Hm?"

"What is this?"

Shizune sobered immediately, a particular thing Sakura didn't miss. Unease settled on the older woman's brow.

"It's... a maidservant was carrying it. A courier brought it earlier today for you."

"For me? From who?"

"...Lord...— Lord Uchiha..."

Lady Sakura didn't need to hear any more.

"Burn it."

* * *

 **Yes, I know I _only_ published this recently, but I figured tossing up the first chapter to set things in motion wouldn't _hurt_ , per se. Otherwise, the story is set to be updated fairly quickly/regularly. I've been writing up a _storm,_ nevertheless.**

 **I hope you're all cool with what I've got planned for this big boy of a story. I gotta warn you now that there _will_ be significant character death meant to advance the story. Romance _is_ a main plot point, _but_ the important parts include war, betrayal, schemes, death, friendship, trust, etc. The whole nine yards. This is a full story that touches all I can offer, not just soft love and all that. Expect maturity in this.**

 **To find companionship in a significant other includes more than courtship. Struggles birth the greatest and truest allies. I'd say with war looming, you get to test all and see what makes a person.**

 **\- burrblefish**


	3. II Summit

**• Rated M for language and later content** **•**

* * *

 **GLORY**

* * *

 **II. _Summit_**

* * *

Running long, slim fingers through the body of his hair, Lord Sasuke walked down the corridor leading to his private chambers. He and his advisor previously completed putting together documents that would enable a stone alliance between the kingdoms of Fire Country—and the High Duke of Wind Country, courtesy of a broth-stained message from his best friend.

Though he'd like to say it eased him, it frankly didn't.

Six days have passed since his brother relinquished his title as Lord Duke of the Southern Uchiha Kingdom. Minor members of Sasuke's militia and a sparse amount of scouts reported back to tell him that Itachi's castle was a ghost town—few survivors and absolutely nothing important were left behind. Remaining villagers were rescued and taken back for food and shelter.

Fury made a home in his heart, but it took so much time and energy and it drained him until he was nothing more than a shell of anxiety and disbelief.

His brother. His loving, strong, kind-hearted brother.

 _What are you doing?_

Favoring a bitter sigh, the King fought to push aside the very thoughts that stole hours of sleep from him. Other, more important matters were asking for his attention and tomorrow—the _historical_ tomorrow—he'd greet his allies.

If a war came just as he feared it to, they'd be ready.

Waving away two servant boys and a guard stationed outside his door, he pushed through the entrance and slammed it shut thereafter.

As he began undoing the clasps of his cloak, wanting nothing more than to slip out of his heavy clothing and weigh down into a mattress, feminine hands reached towards the collar of his shirt.

Sasuke started, shifting distracted, depthless eyes down until they met deep crimson.

"Hello, my love."

Sweet, passionfruit red lips smiled at him affectionately, dazzlingly, his wife swaddled in a diamond-tinted silk nightgown clinging to him like the smoke of a drug. He sighed, feeling the stress tremble under his skin and melt away.

Gathering Mistress Karin into the circle of his strong arms, he nuzzled the crown of her head, immediately relaxed at the smell of cinnamon and maple fluttering from those garnet locks. The scent of heat and spice made for a soothing, exciting thing and he pressed his lips to her forehead.

She laughed quietly into his chest at the action.

"Another rough day?" she questioned, undoing the front of his long coat with nimble fingers. He hummed and she smiled again. "But I trust everything is going well?"

"The Lords will arrive tomorrow afternoon," he supplied, letting his wife remove his coat to leave him in a simple beige shirt. She tossed it aside and knelt for his boots.

"Good." Successfully removing the right, she turned towards the left. "You've nothing to worry about, my love. If anyone can handle what is thrown at him best, it is you."

He didn't have much of an answer for her after that, for her fingers had begun grazing the length of his belt and he was finished talking for the night.

* * *

Gaara Sabaku of the Suna Kingdom opened his eyes upon feeling his carriage draw to a stop. Some would say he were deep in thought—in actuality, he'd been spacing out and napping.

 _Hm_.

"We are here, my Lord," Baki—his High Chancellor—announced. The older man swiftly tied together a small parchment and pocketed it, knocking for the coachman.

As the stiff man steering the horses moved about to reach them, Gaara sat by and took in the different air that told of his arrival in Fire Country. Truly—the four horizons circling Konoha felt heavy and damp with humidity, yet fresh and springly. Marks of the forests. It was no wonder the lands were bountiful here; the great crop export partners of Wind Country had all the luck, didn't they?

Heat felt wet and clung to the lungs, but if the Lord were bothered, he showed none of it.

When the door at his side swung open, he pushed off his seat and waltzed swiftly down the steps of his carriage, taking an eyeful of the grand entrance to the Uchiha castle.

Large and opulent not unlike his own.

The clatter of hooves and the screech of another carriage announced a new arrival. And when a blonde blob—dressed head to toe in fire orange and brilliant blue—flew right out without the help of a coachman, Gaara's upper lip twitched in amusement.

"Lord Naruto," he greeted pleasantly.

The blonde King threw himself onto the redhead excitedly, purely unaware of the stiffening of some nearby servants and coachmen (sans Baki). When the Suna Lord _didn't_ rip his head off, they relaxed. But when he _returned_ the hug, they stared like a new head grew in.

 _What in the..._

"Gaara!" Naruto hollered enthusiastically, pulling away only to clap him on the back. " _Man_ , it's been like a year since I last saw you! How're Temari and Kankuro?"

"They are well," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "You haven't changed a bit."

The blonde winked. "And I'll be taking _that_ as a compliment."

"Perhaps one of the only ones you'd ever get."

Naruto, fully ready to rebuke, paused and squinted against the sun. Neighing and the swing of a great midnight mane gave him the necessary shade to view chocolate brown locks and moonshine eyes. He immediately catered a wide, snarky grin in response.

"Neji, you big bastard! How the hell are you?"

Lord Neji dismounted Aki, landing perfectly on both feet with all the grace of a dancer. Tall and lean, he removed his riding gloves and dropped them into the pouch hooked to his stallion. Nods were exchanged between him and the Lord of Suna.

He then turned to address Naruto with a raised brow.

"Don't act like it's been years. You visited my castle two weeks ago," he remarked dryly.

"Hell—" Naruto shook his head gravely. "You and Sasuke are becoming _way_ too similar."

"What—"

"You're both _hopeless_. _Pfft_ —without me, the two of you _combined_ would have the emotional range of a walnut." He leaned conspiratorially towards an amused Gaara, whispering, "not that they don't _already_."

Lord Hyuuga cocked a brow. "Excuse me?"

The blonde put both hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm just saying—you _could_ , y'know, like not be an arrogant prick _sometimes_. Like I think it's built _into_ King Bastard the First, so maybe you should handle it _before_ you get as bad as him."

"I heard that, idiot."

Two coachmen, one chancellor, and three servant boys immediately ducked their heads and held their breaths, bowing and showing utmost respect for their newest arrival and the King of this region. The trio of noblemen gazed on, Lord Naruto immediately slapping one wide, foxy grin onto his face. Brightening, he dashed to punch Lord Sasuke in the shoulder.

"Asshole!" he greeted pleasantly, saluting. "Three kingsmen, at your service."

"Of course, speaking for himself," Neji quipped. "I've yet to agree to anything." Eyeing the Uchiha in a passive manner, he gave a simple, stiff nod as hello. Sasuke reciprocated it.

"That's something we can discuss in detail," the Uchiha placated. He turned his attention to the Wind Country's High Lord with a brief incline of the head. "Lord Sabaku. I was told that this idiot had reached out to you—I must say. I'm extremely grateful that you've chosen to appear all this way."

"It was a grave message Sir Jiraiya relayed to me," Gaara replied smoothly. "I am a permanent ally of Naruto's and if he so needs my help, then I will assist."

Sasuke nodded curtly, paused to shoot Naruto a fleeting look of thanks, then turned swiftly on his heel.

"Come. We've much to discuss."

* * *

Say what you like, but Lord Naruto knew more than he let on.

For a man who wandered the streets in his youth—lost, confused, too small and too vulnerable—he saw more than he should've. Understood more than he should've.

The Long Lost Prince, they called him. The prince who the late Lady of the Namikaze Kingdom was killed over in a raid on her carriage—who Lord Minato searched for for _years_ to no avail. It was by pure luck that a good friend of his, the nomadic Sir Jiraiya, stumbled upon a little boy he mistakenly called "Minato" right around Tea Country. Had he not been bothered by the uncanny resemblance and sent word to his Lord, the boy and his father wouldn't have been reunited.

Had he not said _anything_ , then young Naruto would've lived out his life on the streets. Perhaps that was what made him so glowingly playful and curious, always the child at heart.

When his father passed—along with Sasuke's parents—in the Third War, he and Sasuke were the young kings. But where Sasuke had his brother, had Kakashi, his cousins and his Council, Naruto—the once poor boy without an ounce of royal mannerism—only had Jiraiya.

And Jiraiya knew better than anyone that Naruto was a wise man.

 _"I know you're watching,"_ he'd said once when the two went hunting together some summers back. _"All the time. It's a good weapon."_

Cunning, brute, kind-hearted, spirited, loving with a good hand at justice and valiance—Naruto had the makings of a King under that immature, rugged exterior. It's these traits Naruto learned to incorporate with his duties over the years—a secret thing he saved for important days.

Days like this, where he sat in Sasuke's War Conference Room, crystal blue eyes deceptively bright and unassuming.

But these same bright eyes were omniscient things when they wanted to be.

So he idled by, quietly watching as Sasuke and Kakashi unraveled a parchment that looked crinkled and torn and ready to fall apart (done by a person's hand). He saw as his best friend-slash-rival stiffened when touching it, unrolling but not reading, pushing it around the table without looking.

He saw the tough body language, the sagging in his normally graceful steps, the look of shadow beneath the eyes. Some minuscule redness and puffiness told of deep-seated, secretive tears. And then the pauses and the unnoticeable stumbles in words as he explained the gist of things.

Yes, he saw this all.

"Your brother has betrayed you."

That was what he heard when he re-entered conversation, not missing Sasuke's droop of the shoulders nor the clench of the jaw.

"Suspected," Kakashi corrected, and his Lord turned a glare at him.

"Stop saying that."

Though the command sounded malicious, little threat catered it. It felt more like a silent plea, a beg to not have hope thrown at his face. Naruto softly shook his head.

So Kakashi thought the same as he.

"Hey man," he quietly called, earning the room's attention. "Okay, well—and I'm not implying anything, alright; Old Jiraiya gave me some good reasons against it—but I'm sorta with Kakashi on this."

He put up a hand, immediately stopping the small snarl on Lord Uchiha's lips.

"Before you say anything else, that doesn't mean I won't help." He shrugged. "Besides what we _think,_ all we can do is get ready for what can _happen_."

There was a pause.

Neji seemed to exchange a look with Gaara, who briefly stared at Naruto like he grew another head.

"Well, damn," Sasuke's advisor muttered. "Pardon my offensiveness, but Lord Uzumaki just sounded _smart._ "

The blonde crossed his arms, nose pointed up in the air haughtily. "Oh, yeah, who's the idiot now?"

"Still you," Neji commented, interrupting the indignant squawk his comrade gave. "Suppose Lord Itachi is in allyship with Lord Pein. Then I assume you know what it can lead to?"

Sasuke nodded stiffly. "He... is too capable," he murmured carefully. "But between Kakashi and I, there isn't much that is a secret. It's a matter of skill."

"So you would be able to tell us his strengths, his weaknesses?"

"Itachi is a capable man," Kakashi remarked, crossing his arms in an act of absent display—not dissimilar in gesture to Shikamaru. "We may know where he is weaker, where he is stronger, but between now and the day we meet on the battlefield, a lot can happen."

"He's extremely skilled, aware, and determined. Lethal, _especially_ in self-improvement."

Kakashi nodded at his Lord's summation. "We're hoping to have at it with your Royal Advisor—Sir Shikamaru and the Nara are quite notorious for their skillset in war strategy."

"That is true." Neji gave a short nod. "And your intentions?"

"With him, we might be able to predict, if but slightly ahead. Perhaps plan some first attacks to slow down the inevitable and buy time. Or get a head start." The parchment that circled the table rested in the center, prepared to be closed. "The smallest advantages are advantages nonetheless, after all."

"Of course."

Neji briefly tapped on the surface of the great oak round table, coming to a conclusion as fast as his head let him. The Fire Country—as abrasive and hard-headed as the kingdoms within might be—was a patriotic place. Blood feuds aside, the nation's kingdoms regarded each other as kin at the end of the day. It's an unspoken connection. Anything that threatened one's Will of Fire threatened all of them.

Lord Pein was no gentle man. With an army as specialized and unique as his—with strength on every front as his—he was a threat. With that power supposedly moving _against_ them, no one was safe.

To Neji, anything to protect his people, he'd do.

"On behalf of the Hyuuga Kingdoms, I accept your proposal of alliance."

Weight lifted off Sasuke's shoulders at the end of Neji's declaration, that much more comforted at the idea of being backed by his distant cousin. Admittedly, the Hyuuga were their own brand of power and he needed all he could get.

Glancing at Naruto, he rolled his eyes at the lopsided smile on the idiot's face.

"You already know I'm in. We're permanent allies," he said almost dismissively, waving his hand. "Since I've got some of the highest yield, my resources are yours."

"And I am able to offer trained elites and battalions," Neji added.

Sasuke nodded gratefully, distantly registering Kakashi excusing himself to fetch the alliance document. Eyes then fell on the final nobleman in the room—the foreign one.

"Gaara, I know we're permanent allies, too," Naruto began carefully, his tone thick with patience (a still rather stunning capability). "But this is all on you. Sasuke isn't _your_ permanent ally. I'm not gonna make you choose anything and it's not really Wind's business. Your call."

Gaara, throughout the body of the conversation, rolled through each man with an analyzing eye like a butter knife—thick and dull, but slow and smooth. Seeing the Will of Fire and hearing of it were very different things—thus witnessing it proved interesting when observed in different people.

Naruto displayed it the most obviously—bright and loud and brimmed to the top with invigorating energy. Sasuke's was in his extreme drive, in his passion to avenge and to protect. Neji's was a flicker—a flame so graceful and quiet and fluid yet still capable of burning.

Truly—a sight to see.

The redhead inhaled slowly, blinking at the expectant blonde across the way.

 _These_ were the sorts of people he needed to keep close. For when times would come that his own kingdom were in danger, they'd undoubtedly rescue him, too. Naruto, his constant ally, was strong on his own, but _with_ the rest of them?

 _Unstoppable_.

To be the Will of Fire—Suna's scorching suns were no different, right?

He nodded slowly.

"...I am able to offer border patrol and resilient men needed for protection," he started. "My armies are built for defense and bulk strength. And..."

He paused, carefully gauging the reaction of his audience. A beat later and he carried on.

"I... am familiar with one of the members of Lord Pein's infantry. He is a criminal apothecary hailing from the rogue state of Southern Suna and is therefore a personal enemy and threat to my people. We have the specific materials required to combat him."

He let the words sink.

"My services are yours."

Unable to hold back a trembling, relieved sigh, Sasuke mustered a thankful nod, collapsing onto his chair at the head of the table. The weight only proved to get heavier and heavier with time, but knowing there'd be others to help bear it significantly lightened the load.

Brushing fingers through his hair to calm whatever tremblings his hands had assumed, he watched as Kakashi laid out a different parchment.

Lord Sasuke glanced at the grand thing, emblazoned with the Seal of Fire and marked by the symbols of each clan around it. Five lines scored the bottom with a quill and bottle of ink lying beside it. Perhaps the most important document in his life up to that day—it was both daunting and comforting to look at.

But it would change _everything_.

He stood on two feet. Newfound vigor set his shoulders in a straight line, much to Naruto's delight.

 _Oh, there's the bad-ass I love to hate._

Grim was his tone as he announced; "This is the paper that will bind our kingdoms in this coming war time. Should you sign this, then we will, henceforth, display unity and resilience and faith in numbers. The Four Seasons Alliance and the occupants of this room will bear witness to your pledge."

But his blonde best friend-slash-rival paused everything before anyone could retrieve the quill.

"Wait," he'd said, latching onto Gaara's extended wrist towards the ink bottle. Raised brows turned to him. "No—why are there _five_ lines?"

There.

He stiffened again.

Neji turned moonshine eyes to his host, a new and knowing look in their silverstone depths. Oh, he knew.

"You intended to have Senju Kingdom in this alliance, didn't you?"

 _Senju?_

While Gaara vaguely remembered that Fire Country had four corners, Naruto frowned. He knew Senju Country—loved it, in fact. But he _also_ knew his best friend and the history he shared with its beautiful ruler. She was, after all, a good friend to the blonde in their years of friendship before and during her marriage (crushing on her aside).

 _Dammit man,_ he muttered dryly. _And you call_ me _the idiot._

"Senju Kingdom has the shelter we lack," Kakashi dutifully explained, pointing stern eyes when Sasuke whipped around to look at him. They'd discussed it before, but the latter skirted around the subject. Things with...—things with their Lady ended rather awkwardly and though he regretted none of it, it was still weirdly difficult to look in the face.

Yes, he had Karin now and he wouldn't trade anything for it. But firsts would always be sensitive topics, _regardless_.

Of course, Kakashi simply enjoyed seeing his Lord squirm. And it was his own personal secret that he had a small soft spot for the ex-wife (she was always such a good tactical conversationalist). Helps that the subject of it _is_ a valuable potential ally. Now with the other Lords in attendance, perhaps Sasuke would finally be swayed.

"Now that we have the tactical power and provisions from Namikaze Kingdom, the specialist divisions of Hyuuga Kingdom, the defense and substance assist from Suna Kingdom, and Uchiha's numbers, we lack safe havens and shelters for our people, _should_ our lands become battle fields. Survivors of Itachi's defection hardly have a place here as it is. The First King gave Senju the largest amount of land and their Great Walls are a fortress we need."

The dark-haired Lord's jaw grew taut. Damn his advisor for being so good at...at _advising_.

No, things between him and Lady Haruno were in the past but _hell_. They really wanted to make things hard and awkward, didn't they? He knew that what he'd done, felt guilt sometimes but held no regrets. Sure he proposed the notion of alliance once but...

"And let's not forget Senju's prowess in the medical scene," Neji offered, earning himself an oddly betrayed look from Sasuke.

He pursed his lips and ignored it. _It's not like I_ want _you anywhere near her. This is war, moron._

"Not only was Lady Tsunade a woman ahead of her time concerning the medical age, but I trust you all are aware of Lady Sakura taking over in her place." No, Sasuke hadn't exactly known.

"Then she may be of assistance to the substance aspect," Gaara inputted, nodding softly to the Hyuuga across from him. "She'd be quite valuable."

"Unfortunately, though, Lady Sakura did not make it today." A pause.

Kakashi shook his head carefully, ignoring Sasuke's look of disdain.

 _Be mature, Sasuke._

"You _need_ to contact her," Naruto urged, palming the face of the table. "If we're going to do this, it's all or nothing. She's got what we need."

"You were wedded to her once, yes?" Lord Sasuke visibly stiffened at the question Gaara laid out; Lord Neji grew exceptionally rigid. "Then you've a connection already by royal matrimony—divorce or not. Your Councils and your people are familiar. You are connected by all but legal marriage. It will be to our greatest benefit if we can get all four corners of Fire Country united."

"There will be no openings into Fire. The lands will be secured between us, and we're entertaining the possibility of another potential Great War. _This_ will be beneficial."

"Convince her, Sasuke."

Before Sasuke could lash out, Neji calmly interrupted with, "Lady Sakura's birthday will be coming around in several days. The gates of her kingdom may open for celebration for those she invited. As she refused to come here... perhaps we can go to her instead and ask if she will see us."

Gaara nodded agreeingly. "Yes. At the very least, we can have her personal rejection. After some negotiation, of course."

"Then that settles it!" Naruto hollered, ignoring the withered look on his best friend-slash-rival's face. "King Bastard, you know what to do!"

* * *

 **Oh shit, some interaction next chapter, post-divorce? I would imagine that despite what you'd hope for an ex (equivalent to wanting to "just be friends" with someone you've broken up with), in practice and in the future it's still difficult. Much like with Sasu-man. And Neji is—**

 **And also, I'll just say this now because I can feel people ready to scream about it—the SasuKarin is a necessity to the story. She's an important plotpoint in terms of romance, and though I personally don't _like_ her, her character build deserves more than a measly obsessive fangirl. SasuSaku _will_ show as time moves; we just gotta keep in mind what "character development" is (no, this doesn't mean it'll end SasuSaku. This _is_ a Sakura-centric story after all).**

 **Anyways, in the mean time, let's simply sit back and continue reading. Much of these first few chapters are the beginning arc.**

 **For now, enjoy. We'll be in touch ;)**

 **\- burrblefish**


	4. III Keen

**• Rated M for language and later content** **•**

* * *

 **GLORY**

* * *

 **III. _Keen_**

* * *

 _Alive_.

The village didn't just _look_ alive. It _felt_ alive. Every corner of the senses sparked with fervor the exact moment one entered this town—this, this little place that few got the opportunity to truly _see_.

Senju Kingdom's fortified walls kept away all who stood on the outside. Everything within was privy to only its people, to its court, and so there were common misconceptions about it.

 _One_ , the villagers lived a droll life. What could you possibly do in such a place? What is there _to_ do besides the exact same constant routine?

 _Two,_ civilians were like prisoners. With high, concrete walls on all sides, in every horizon—it would be far too easy to feel restricted. Were they royal subjects or _test_ subjects? Was it as hard getting out of the walls as it was getting in?

And _three_ , the royal court cared little about this. The fortification was a thing meant for the _castle,_ not its people—why else would it sit at the far end of the gates? _Why else would it be the farthest away?_

But in truth, outsiders knew so _little_ about Senju Kingdom, even those who lived in Fire Country, for the gates stayed closed for all unless a celebration came around. And _even then,_ few outsiders were invited to such festivities.

 _In massive truth,_ yes, Senju Kingdom saw itself as its own little haven. A private happiness. A protected glass sanctuary in a world that sought to destroy it.

And their Ladies—their Queens—were the human embodiment of these Great Walls.

Lady Sakura's twenty-sixth celebration came around as news through the countries. Eager were outsiders in receiving an invitation to the protected land—eager were they to see the court that had lone Queens ruling for two generations now. A prosperous, secretive place—now open for those allowed to see.

Entry to royal events here meant you would witness what much of the world hasn't.

Perhaps it was by sheer luck that Lady Hinata had been invited to the celebration, but was unable to go. She'd transferred the document to Advisor Shikamaru who—under his Lord's orders—was on his way to rendezvousing with their carriages just beyond Uchiha borders (they figured they might need the strategic manpower as persuasion).

"You'll be pleased to hear, My Lord," he'd drawled suddenly as they paused to let the horses rest at a riverside, "that Lady Hinata handed me an invitation into Senju Kingdom." He'd been met with varying looks of surprise and relief and some happy squawk from that annoyingly loud blonde king.

There had been distinct screeching coming from some red-haired woman inside one of the carriages— _really_ , Lord Sasuke's tastes couldn't be any _quieter?_ What was she even doing here anyways, this was official business—

"Souvenir shopping," was her haughty, sniveling reply and Shikamaru let his questions drop because frankly, something about her rang similarly to (and worse than) a Yamanaka he once knew and he _really, really_ didn't need that when he had stuff to take care of right now.

And when things couldn't get any more damn loud, that blonde king (the blaring oaf) demanded proof and Shikamaru did indeed confirm that _yes_ , he had the document, _yes_ , that was Lady Sakura's signature, and _no_ , he may not keep it for the journey—cue horrible happy dance.

"Morons, I work with morons," he'd noted his Lord muttering off to the side.

* * *

Anxiety was such an annoying thing. You'd think that after years of being forged from fire and built like steel, a man such as Lord Uchiha would've been able to quash all forms of emotion. He learned the hard way that "feelings" could not be necessarily removed (for a man as temperamental as he), but _could_ be suppressed.

But conquering it was another thing. A whole new demon that he fought even now.

 _What could happen?_ he wondered fleetingly. The memories of his ex-wife weren't many in number, and the face that he once thought pretty seemed to get washed away like the ripples in a lake each passing day.

Yet the tugging in his gut was undeniable. But _what_ was there to be nervous about?

 _I... may think she won't accept,_ he entertained. _Yes, that's it_.

After all—though he bore guilt, Lord Uchiha had no regrets.

Sasuke shifted in his seat, obsidian eyes fluttering open at the feel of soft lips touching his collarbone. He chanced a glimpse down, immediately flooded with luscious scarlet and a noseful of cinnamon spice. The whirlwind of anxiety frying his nerves settled into a dull ache at the sight of his wife.

 _No regrets._

Karin smiled languidly up at him, tucked up against his side and under his arm, nimble fingers sweetly gracing the pulsepoint of his wrist. He stopped her hands and cupped it with his, knitting digits together until they were locked.

"You didn't have to come with me," he quietly said. She laughed softly.

"Sakura doesn't scare me," she replied back, unaware of his newly rigid posture.

It still made him feel odd that she never addressed her as 'Lady.' Perhaps it was because she wasn't allowed to be called that title (Mistress Karin of the Southern Uchiha Kingdom was her official name; the Council refused to give her any more). Perhaps it was pettiness. Immaturity.

But then he was also grateful for the response. It meant she was detached from the former Lady Uchiha and he needed as many players on his side, all things considered. Lady Haruno owned the heart of many but his wasn't included. Neither was Karin's.

Blessfully.

His anxiety lessened.

Sasuke circled his free hand tighter around his wife, reveling in the feel of her nose burying somewhere into his collar. Lips touched his neck, his jaw, and he shifted to chuckle.

"We might've benefited from having someone at the castle," he teased. "Kakashi's here with me and no one's watching my crown."

The flame-colored woman pulled away slightly to give a pout. "You don't want _me_ here with you?"

He shook his head. "No, not that," he amended. "But it would've done me good knowing someone was at home."

She huffed about, returning to nuzzle his chest. "If you'd said it like that back there, maybe I would've."

"You would've?" He felt his lips pull into a smirk when she stiffened like she'd been caught.

"...No." Defeat, and he chuckled amusedly, tightening his fingers on hers.

"You'll have to learn to rule eventually, Karin," he chastised, nudging her forehead so that she looked up at him. "You've been putting off your duties for nearly three years now."

She pouted again. "Don't scold me."

"I'm not. Merely reminding you."

Karin shrugged slightly. "I will. Adjustment takes time, of course. But I'm a fast learner and I'm sure I can pick it up faster than Sakura had." Resettling into her lord's arms, she inhaled deeply and shut her eyes to relax in the following silence.

At the sound of his ex-wife's name, the previous anxiety returned anew. Distantly, Sasuke resisted the urge to correct her. Sakura didn't need to learn; leadership ran in her blood.

She'd been a natural.

* * *

A flood of carriages swarmed at the massive Great Walls of Senju Kingdom, hundreds of people awaiting entry into the ever elusive village. When these same carriages—big and small, rich and poor—entered beyond the concrete fortress, awe hit like a wave.

Left and right, up and below, the bright colors of blazing red and phoenix orange bloomed like true flames. Flags bearing the Senju symbol, the late King Dan Haruno's circlet, and Fire Country's insignia soared high and true, rippling broadly along the gentle breeze.

Smoke from street food vendors wafted mouth-watering delicacies down roads, shops open and pouring forth sales and discounts on goods. Children screamed and ran, winning prizes from game booths and following their parents in straight lines. Adolescents and young adults pedaled around like first lovers, using festivities as reasons to mingle. The elder generations sat by on rocking chairs, weaving tales of Senju, wrinkled fingers gesturing to follow the path of time.

To those who've never ventured beyond the village walls, the sheer force of celebration felt like a tidal wave smashing onto shore. Sasuke, his wife, Gaara, and their two advisors in another ride, were some of the ones new to the sights and smells. And though Naruto had been there before accompanying Jiraiya, shock may forever be a reaction to the town.

It bustled so fiercely with _life_ and in stunning _clarity_ —and Neji and Shikamaru knew this all to be a product of Lady Haruno's work.

 _A born queen_ , the former had always told himself.

Should the war throttle their kingdoms, their people would be in perfect, capable hands here. Nevermind all the space—morale proved high and the sense of protective warmth, fierce. The people here didn't live a sheltered life despite the walls, they lived a _full_ one.

Gaara silently concluded that Lady Haruno's Will of Fire lived vivaciously, like a fire-breather's torch. Warm and familial and willing to burn all who threatened it.

In Sasuke's carriage, the young Lord's curiosity served like an annoying itch asking to be scratched. Booming town drums and fluid singing catered to the senses like a musical dream, further accentuated with distinct laughter, with vendors hollering, with people chattering. In the many years of his crownhood, there were few times he'd heard his own village celebrating like this.

During (ex) Lady Uchiha's season festivals.

Curiosity pulled him by the leg but luckily, it was Karin who moved to relieve an itch of her own.

Leaning across his lap, she pushed aside the curtain on Sasuke's left, her lips that were previously twisted into a frown dropping in awe.

"Woah..." she exhaled.

Bright colors streaked across the small insides of the carriage and young Lord Uchiha shifted eyes to the outside. His lungs pinched tight at the view.

To hear something and to _see_ were two vastly different entities. And seeing—oh, yes, _seeing_ —proved to steal the air straight from his body. Nostalgia punched him clean against the chest.

 _This_ was it.

 _This_ was a village—a _family_.

And they were all celebrating Lady Haruno's twenty-sixth birthday.

He had little time to ponder, for fireworks sent streaking into the sky startled Karin. He steadied her absently, drawing eyes up to the front of the carriage where their pace grew slower and slower. Soon thereafter, the grand Senju Castle—open, alight, and welcoming members of various noble courts—entered his sight.

It wasn't long until he found himself descending the few stairs off his ride, meeting Naruto screeching at the festivities and Gaara half-staring in what looked to be awe. Neji and Shikamaru, unfazed, were softly murmuring to each other.

Entry into the conversation made Sasuke catch the tail end of Naruto's exclamation of, "—ly _shit_ , Sakura knows how to throw a damn _party!"_

"What are all the dramatics for...?" Karin muttered with folded arms, still stuck on the booming crystal teal and blazing orange fireworks igniting the sky. She eyed some passing nobility and found that many of them were not of the higher royal courts. "It's a birthday, big deal. Lords and Ladies and their clans besides _us_ didn't even show up."

"Passing gossip mentioned this is Lady Sakura's first public celebration by invitation. It's usually Lady Tsunade with these parties," Shikamaru entered smoothly, sending an inconspicuous raise of the brow at a vastly annoyed Neji. Naruto seemed to be all but ignoring the female of their party. "Burdensome thing."

"Sheer luck I'd say, that Lady Hyuuga graciously gave us her invitation," Gaara added, half-grinning at Naruto pointing at a flurry of fire-breathers and sword-swallowers performing on a stage.

"If we intend to make good time, then we must go," came Kakashi's suggestion with Baki in tow, the former smoothing over the body of his long-cloak with one hand and loosely gripping the pouch at his hip with another. Just the sight of the bag carrying the alliance made Sasuke's eyes tighten.

Nerves were such a fucking annoyance.

Firmly holding onto Karin's hand looped at the crook of his elbow, he nodded stiffly at his large party of eight and waved away the servants handling their carriages.

And though he'd deny it if ever asked, he found himself surprised to see Lord Hyuuga taking lead.

 _Has he been here before?_

* * *

Brilliant jewel-toned gowns swept the grand, golden floors of the main ballroom, the string orchestra warping simple notes into medleys of dance. Heels clicked in time with a set beat and the dance partners of every woman in the centre swept them down, dipping low until hairs touched gold.

As they spun in perfect union, like the cogs in clockwork, women were drawn back to their men in elegant pose, every swish, every swing simultaneous.

The air felt charged with piercing electricity yet with some fiery warmth, for many of the populace secretly held an eye towards the ballroom's throne. They moved with a grace, hoping to catch the attention of the fair lady—men wanted a chance to show her intimacy through waltz, women wanted a chance at conversing with her.

Awe-inspiring as simple rumors were, the noble courts present felt a newer kind of revitalization at being there for _real_.

Lady Haruno sat to the left of her mother, gazing at the "inconspicuously" staring crowd in amusement. Dressed in a ruby-red ballgown bordered by only the finest golden silk crafted solely for the royal, she looked the vision of a jewel in all its elegance. The eyes that fell upon her admired especially that.

"If I knew any better, you look like you're ready to test the waters again," Lady Tsunade randomly inputted from beside her daughter, and she laughed at the look of horror briefly passing over her face. "I don't blame you. It must've _really_ been something—those trysts with Lord H-"

" _Mother!_ "

Though her blush was suppressed, the flustering tips of her ears stayed strawberry red, much to her mother's delight.

"Oh, don't be like that," she chastised, waving down a manservant carrying a tray of fine honey sake over. "You love when you love; you know I have nothing against you ruling alone."

Sakura sighed. "I appreciate that, Mother."

"Yes, well." Tsunade straightened to full height, smiling at several chambermaids coming to flank her. She winked at the current Queen. "It wouldn't hurt to mingle, though. I don't have anything against _that_ either."

And she was gone before the pinkette could string together a threat. Muttering soft curses under her breath, Lady Haruno returned her attention to the waltzing circle, half-enchanted at the synchronized shifts.

Perhaps a waltz for herself would do her some good.

Nodding away a rapidly approaching Shizune who caught sight of her getting up, the Queen felt multiple eyes on her.

She mostly ignored it save for an inclination of the head, finding an opening in the dance through a man—some pretty brunette with Water Country's baron insignia threaded into his breastpocket—and locking eyes with him to give her intentions. He seemed to smile prettily, murmuring to his partner and spinning her away.

Gracefully, Lady Haruno pivoted across the floor like a petal, landing into the arms of the brunette man.

He caught her, easing them into the mystifying dance that controlled the area.

"My Lady," he greeted smoothly, the color of his voice high and rich. It seemed almost feminine and soft to match the beauty of his features, but the build she could feel under her fingers told of masculinity. Briefly squeezing the muscle of his bicep, she smiled dazzlingly.

The waltz carried on in perfect sync with the other dancers sweeping across the floor. She exchanged few words, content with being in the heart of the crowd rather than an observer. The men came and went, exchanging her and the other women in flawless harmony so that the pairs changed like an electric constant.

Eventually though, she found herself spun on her feet and caught in a new pair of arms, _different_ from the ones who held her almost fragilely.

The distinct smell of sunshine and beachside white sand hit her senses, the vague scent of cold bamboo trees a light undertone. There was only a little time to see her last partner gracing her with a light, farewell bow before crystal jade circled by coal black entered her line of sight.

 _Ah._

Long, limber arms curled around both her waist and her hand, drawing closer than the others who had been in a similar position. The barest hints of a head bow—this gave her a gentle view of firestorm (the _annoying_ color) locks brushing along his lashes—was all she received before they fell in step with the song.

He moved with the ease of a man of power, she noticed. It both caught her and warned her.

"I must say," he began lowly just as she surfaced from a dip. The thrum of his baritone echoed in his chest and transferred to her skin. "I'd only heard rumors about the Queen of Senju Kingdom. They do no true justice."

She allowed a simple smile at the brief compliment, gown sweeping the floor as pairs spread themselves apart and twirled back into the arms of their partners. Drawing that slim hand up and over his bicep, she trailed over his shoulder, emerald green flickering quickly.

Etched onto his breastpocket was the golden insignia for Wind Country.

"To whom do I owe this pleasure?" she inquired, gaze growing calculating and flinty in light of the observation. There wasn't anything threatening about the man at all; however, she couldn't recall sending any invitations out as far as Wind nor to any noblemen capable of using threaded pure gold.

Well.

Well unless...

 _Unless_ —

"Lord Duke Gaara Sabaku of the Suna Kingdom," he introduced, and she froze in his arms.

A duke.

A _king_.

It took too long to process for her tastes. The implications, his presence, the possibilities—

She ripped herself out of his grasp as if he burned to the touch, ignorant of the minute look of surprise on his face nor the disruption of the waltz.

There was only one upper member of the royal court she remembered inviting—The Duchess in Hyuuga Kingdom—but no men. _No men._

She was stupid— _sosososofuckingstupid_ , following Tsunade's orders of inviting a member of the Hyuuga court for trade business and _not realizing there was a possibility that Hinata wouldn't make it._

 _"If not Lady Hyuuga_ ,"her mother had said, but she wasn't paying attention enough, _"then the invitation is transferable. No party limit—we want them comfortable."_

No members of royalty were invited save Hinata. If _Lord Sabaku_ was here then... The fucking possibilities—god, she was so fucking _ignorant._

That... That meant—

 _Neji..._

He had to be here. There was no way around it. _No fucking way._

And if he was, he _had to leave._ He had had to leave because there was absolutely _no fucking way_ her heart was ready for that kind of trip again. It was bad enough that—

 _Speak of the devil and he shall appear_ —

Beyond Gaara's questioning look, Lady Haruno's panicking, rigid eyes zeroed in on the entrance of a band of people, most whom she'd seen before.

And sure enough, Lord Hyuuga stood there, as regal and beautiful as the day she last saw him.

Where there used to be a look of searing heat shared between them, their passionate nights like communicative electricity passing through mineral water, now was there that cold moonstone resolve, equally as breathtaking and equally as deadly. She feared them seeing her, for she knew the kind of power they held (especially over her).

It was the gods agitated, surely—he lied that gaze unto her and the brief melting of their chill was enough to shake even the strongest pound of resolve in her system.

And when Lord Uchiha appeared next to him, heated blood ran ice cold.

* * *

Lord Hyuuga understood that time was of the essence. Separate personal feelings from professional ones and you'd be golden. Every minute wasted on fraternizing meant another minute spent backwards from their purpose. With war threatening their beings, focus was to be had. Straight lines were—after all—the fastest route to any destination.

But of course, there were things worth (even unwillingly) bending for.

Annoying and frustrating were the matters of the heart and he'd long forgotten how debilitating they were until now. _Now._ In this single moment in time.

It wasn't fair—he decided—for a man such as he to crumble at the feet of a woman. _It just wasn't fair._

Even more, it was almost shameful how he _enjoyed_ falling apart for her. For that portion of time in his life, all kinds of passionate and painful and sensual and destructive, he clung onto the idea of being at the mercy of _her_.

And he _hated_ it almost as much as he _loved_ it

Cruel divine jokes were the only things that could possibly explain his tumultuous heart. For there she stood—the object of his desires, his affections, his lusts, his gratification. For there she stood—the one thing he longed for on lonely nights and cursed for on drunken ones.

Lady Haruno.

Beautiful as the moment she made the decision to end their trysts (although the tears in her eyes under moonlight made for a sorrowful, nymph-like memory in the recesses of his mind), with eyes solely on _him_.

Something deep inside swelled then wilted at the thought that she looked both in yearning and in fear at him. It would've felt like it was simply _just_ them again—

 _—if it weren't for the man that walked to stand beside him._

Her attentions fell away, and he remembered with cold fury exactly _who_ was next to him. And then icy pain and anguish clutched at her visage and Neji felt his own type of agony grapple with his heart.

This was the man.

The one who tore her being asunder, defiled her trust and ripped away her love. _This_ was the man whose name she cried out in their first nights together, whose name he had to listen to as passively as his falling heart could.

 _This was the man_ who abandoned a woman for life like her for a woman for nights like _that_.

Though Neji knew it and he accepted it, it still thickened his blood with poison.

 _She loves him._

Or loved—it didn't change the fact of the matter.

And it _infuriated_ him.

"Fuck," he muttered beneath the shroud of his breath. Now was not the time. _Now was not the time._

He didn't bother staying where they stood, feeling Lord Uchiha also grow rigid. No doubt, he finally caught sight of his ex-wife but Lord Hyuuga cared little about the pig-headed king and his abhorrent ways.

Rather, he stalked through the crowd, slicing between the waltzers coming to a stop, and spotted Lord Sabaku on the floor a few feet from his ex-lover.

Neji's chest inflated when his movements forced the Queen's staring to cease, switching her attentions to the man now pacing in her direction.

Panic colored those vividly haunting spring-bred eyes of hers but before she could flee, he reached Gaara's side and shot out a, "Lady Haruno."

The richness of his tenor grinded her resolve to a standstill and she froze mid-step, half-turned from the man who held her the way she once wished Lord Uchiha to. One might call Neji bitter, resentful—a hateful, spiteful lover—and he'd do nothing but agree.

He _hated_ being here but everything was at stake.

 _This is business. War. Bigger than what once was._

Neji chanced a step closer, thankful that the waltzers had begun swaying away from the trio of royalty on the ballroom floor. Forcing aside the wicked, storming state of his mind, body, and soul, Lord Hyuuga walked until he was simple paces away from Queen Haruno.

 _"Sakura."_

The whisper was brief. Light, like a butterfly beating wings against skin, yet he saw the way goosebumps rose along the exposed curve of her neck. The tender flesh, slim and creamy, fell away from view when blush locks covered them and he realized she turned back to him.

There was fear there still, mixed with uncertainty.

Powerful Queen Haruno, reduced back to the woman he witnessed in pain even as he warmed her bed.

He shifted to the right, glad her body language followed him, shielding her from the general populace's prying eyes on the other side of the ballroom. The lord vaguely registered a woman—what was her name... Shizune?—ushering the party back into celebration, and keen honey eyes piercing across the thicket.

Gaara stepped forward, lying a hand on his shoulder and whatever intention was put behind it, Neji took it anyways as a grounding touch.

Reminded of his purpose, Lord Hyuuga regained the opalescent primness in his visage and nodded softly.

"Lady Haruno," he repeated, and warmth lost their home in his tone.

A flurry of emotions skated across her face and he would've found it entertaining had it been any other moment. When it settled on stone—yes, yes, the _exact_ one he associated with her noble title—he resisted the urge to sigh in relief.

Purpose.

 _Get back to the purpose._

"May we speak with you, Your Highness?" Gaara inquired from beside him, "in private?"

Those petals of hers she called lips were pursed in thought.

Perhaps they'd see progress today. Her mouth parted to speak—

And then it was like a spell being broken when her gaze unwittingly flicked to the side and accidentally caught sight of choppy red standing beside a long, navy-blue broad cloak she'd come to detest after years.

Her blood ran both arctic cold and violently hot in her veins.

Childish. She was _childish_.

You could even call it fleeing, running away, and despite all she'd been taught to not turn tail before enemies, instinct and heartache drove her to _get rid of it all._ Lessons be damned. And she didn't care right now; _this_ was her domain and no one of her past could extinguish the flames she stoked here.

Especially not _them_.

"No."

Lord Sabaku stood rooted to the spot, half-stunned. Had he heard that correctly?

 _No?_

"Milady—" But Neji's urging was sharply cut by emerald fire.

"Leave."

He could step no further, for tall knightly guards dressed in blood red and bronze stood in his way, robbing him of the vision in ruby and gold.

* * *

 **You wouldn't believe the number of omake those last few scenes resulted in. I think I'll add those as part of the after-chapters when the story finishes.** **I just wasn't getting a good enough image so pardon it's mediocrity.**

 **I'll get around to rewriting it into something suitable but well, nonetheless, I'm happy with the way I've characterized Neji. I just adore writing his character (sooo the next chapter's opening scene is my absolute favorite *wink wink*). We'll get peeks into Neji and Sakura's trysts as well as what exactly Sasuke thinks of Sakura soon (:**

 **Karin won't be sticking around for that much longer, neither are certain people. A lot of it is centered on just Sakura and the four kings, but because of history, it's heavily NejiSaku and SasuSaku for now. Fear not, there will be more interaction :D**

 **\- burrblefish**


	5. IV Viscous

**Rated M for language and later content**

* * *

 **GLORY**

* * *

 **IV. _Viscous_**

* * *

 _Lying here beside her_ — _it was enough to calm the usual disquiet nature of his head. Storming as it so often was in waking hours with angry questions and confusion, the painfully scattered canvas he labeled the "Mind" fell dutifully blank_ _—clean—slated in the face of her presence._

 _How wonderful it was to have her here, selfish as it may be. It made him forget his own ex-lover_ _—though the trade-off was something vicious, as if Fate truly hated him to his core._

 _Sardonically, he realized how bittersweet it was to keep falling for women he had zero chances with, very much including this one, who had him tangled in her sheets._

 _She—wrapped tightly in his arms in sharp contrast with the loose spread of cloth over them—sighed sweetly, lips on the crown of his head and fingers untangling the knots in the long waterfall of his cocoa-colored tresses. The biceps strung around her torso flexed minutely and a gratified murmur tumbled from his lips._

 _The Lady_ _—his midnight lover_ _—_ _laughed quietly at it, unsurprised but rather coy when his bigger hand snatched hers, weaving long, nimble fingers between her smaller ones._

 _He looked up, peeking from beneath the comfort of sheets to gaze at her in the eye. Moonstone—the rich, refined color of smooth white quartz—stared up at her, clouded with the haze of sleepiness and intimate afterglow._

 _"That tickles," he whispered into the skin of the flesh just beyond her left breast, and she exhaled at the sensation. Warm was his breath on her cooled skin, and he kissed the curve exposed to him, sampling the fruit he'd taken countless times by now._

 _Goosebumps rose at his call and he chuckled roughly yet softly, amused by the reaction to his touch._

Sensitive.

 _She'd grown to be familiar with him.  
_

 _The thought, despite himself, made his grounded heart soar with an ache dangerously familiar and inviting. Her body had become responsive enough that a mere brush of the lips, a mere stride of the finger, brought to him her every action and reaction._

 _Yet as quickly as such a beautiful notion had come, he urged it to leave._

 _Firmly and with half a frown, he quashed the very thoughts that made his soaring heart feel shackled and chained._

 _These were trysts._

 _Trysts with little value and even littler meaning beyond the warming of a bed and the fulfillment of a body._

 _This was all they were._

 _Beyond titles and royal blood_ — _beyond it all,_ _he was simply a man who gave a hurting woman company just as she did for him. It's just... along the way, he-_

 _Unfortunately, he was a man who also fell prey when attachment was meant to be_ nonexistent _._

 _But it was hard_ _—acting like nothing existed when something_ did _(for him, at least). In waking hours, it drove him mad._

 _His ex-lover was now at the back of his mind_ —that _had been his purpose for coming here. Then Fate reared its ugly head and poured his heart out for another woman unattainable in every way except for in body._

 _Somehow, it had turned into this... this_ longing _._ _Sexual desire wasn't_ just _what it was_ — _it was desire in every possible version and sense of the word._

 _Love._

 _It had to be that._

 _He'd even_ admit _it to be that, albeit with a skip in his breath and a jump in his heart._

 _His...his_ love—

 _It_ _had grown desperately dependent and twisted and needy_ _—so,_ so needy _—he knew that and he feared it, but did absolutely_ nothing _. He knew his place, she knew hers, and yet it was undeniable that in him was the drive to wish and to be._

 _For her, he'd conquer continents, move mountains and hail rain into the desert. He'd do the impossible. It was culpable for him to find small happiness in an act such as this, but he_ _did._

He did.

 _He couldn't have her any other way than how it was now, through the joining of overheated bodies and deep gasps and breathless whispers of "more" when there was no more to give._

 _Then, no further pondering nor self-pitying could be done, for her hand slipped agilely out of his grasp. The Lord lied back, stare growing thick with sensuality as those viridian irises of hers jaded in implication._

 _With the fluidity and grace of a dancer, she'd begun feathering that damnable hand along the juncture of his collarbone, down the side of his torso where it rested at the curve of his hip. Senses awakened, his body grew alive and aware under the searing heat of her touch._

 _She'd begun hovering over him like a goddess descending upon her disciples and he waited in long thirst to be blessed, to chant her name like the prayer he knew by heart. That long, sinuous leg of hers fell exposed from the sheets, winding over and around his waist so that she could pull herself fully above him and he cared little about it._

 _He'd fall at the mercy of her for as long and as much as she wished._

 _And like that, he again forgot who they were. They were simply man, woman, playing a game that replaced pain with something temporary and explosive. Dangerous and fulfilling._

 _Painful. Yet perfect._

 _The Lord gazed on_ _—once more, he_ _took another bite from the fruit that Temptation offered him._

 _Surely, they would at least fall to Hell in each other's arms._

* * *

It felt a lot like frustration, cocktailed with sorrow and emptiness when Neji woke up again in the middle of the night, sweating and heaving and wishing _—_ drowning in dreams that were pieces of his memories where they stayed locked up in the day and greeted him like demons in the dark.

* * *

Lady Haruno flipped pages of her novel aside, basking in the warmth of the morning sun.

Beneath her library's balcony, the town bustled with chattering life and leftover giddiness from last night's celebration. They'd awakened later than usual but got to work as a unit, cleaning away the remnants of festivities and transitioning into the usual quirky, headstrong ways of her people.

She smiled briefly, watching as the village's great gates stayed open for departing carriages. Some chose to remain for another day or so and she allowed them this—the honey wine of Senju's creation was a sweet, addictive, but powerful thirst-quencher and inhebriator and they'd need to recuperate.

A brief set of three knocks clacked at the entrance to the library and Lady Haruno stayed in the arms of her seat, head lolling up.

"Yes?"

"Milady." It was Shizune. "Lord... Lord Sabaku has requested an audience with you."

Sakura's once warm, meadow-colored eyes hardened till only deep forests lied there. Flashes of last night's memory flew miles in a second across her head; ice held her chest. _God..._

"Tell him that I reject his request." Shizune's silence felt tangibly uncertain. "And to also find his way out of my village with his company. Surely they can't miss the large gates," she added as a particularly acerbic afterthought.

No one ever said a queen wasn't capable of vice. And in these moments, personal feelings be damned—she wanted none of them in her kingdom.

"I'm... I'm afraid he won't take no for an answer."

The Lady got to her feet in a short fit of rage because _of course they're insolent morons with no ounce of understanding_ —

—and promptly froze.

For there stood patient Lord Gaara Sabaku, all firestorm hair and green jasper eyes. He watched her calmly yet critically, expression gauging hers. Dressed in garbs of beige and bronze, the gold insignia caught light as he inclined his head very lightly in act of respect and blatant disregard for her order.

"Your Highness."

* * *

Sasuke wasn't able to sleep the night before.

Not even Karin could charm him into "thoroughly exploring" this inn's bed, for he chose to nurse a bottle of whiskey and a glass at the fireplace in the lobby instead. She'd huffed indignantly, muttering while stomping up the steps to their room.

Naruto had come by but thankfully the dense man chose to be quiet this time. Neither Neji nor Gaara and their advisors were in his sight.

He accepted what could happen last night and walls were erected to strengthen his resolve.

No regrets.

Lord Uchiha regretted nothing those years ago. Things hadn't been working—she was smart but she'd been too quiet, too withdrawn. Too apathetic. Too _cold_. He was familiar with _that_ Sakura.

That stony passivity—that was the visage he expected seeing yesterday but it _wasn't it._

Gone were the normally obedient, cooling jades that peeked between lashed blinks. In their place sat eyes the color of feline emerald—of- of polished malachite, of spiced green thunder and jagged spears of verdigris. They were potent, _vibrant_ , and as he fell in her sight, they only grew a thousand fold in fire.

 _The woman beneath the vision of his ex-wife._

He knew it before he was escorted out of the castle: he'd have nightmares of that stare should sleep claim him.

And as proud a man as Lord Uchiha was, he deeply _feared_ being pierced by the beryl shards she called _eyes_. They'd scrounge up the guilt that he suppressed these years because if there was one thing vivid in that time, it'd been Kakashi's constant urging to talk to her as a husband to a wife, not a king to a queen.

" _You will come to find,_ " he'd mentioned, " _that Lady Sakura's layers are a joy peeling back if you_ tried."

Vague were those words, Sasuke figured it was just Kakashi being cryptic again and ignored him. She never made a move, why should he? There were other things to tend to, other politics, other diplomats, other _matters_. That'd been his justification. _That'd_ been enough. Until _yesterday_ happened—

He'd gotten to the inn, a storm of confusing emotions and the _need_ to _drink_.

And so the Lord of Steel stayed awake, slamming a handful of ryo bills down on the lobbyman's counter, and made him fetch his hardest, strongest liquor. With only his alcohol and the fireplace as company, he sat open-eyed the whole night through, plotting blank strategies, thinking empty tactics, and drowning in greengreen _green_ —

 _It made no sense_ that he'd be this affected.

Near three years, he firmly believed those decisions to divorce were right ones, _final_ ones. He thought himself lucky that he still didn't feel any regret about it because there was a woman upstairs waiting for him. He loved _her_ , not... her. Never her.

It couldn't _be_ her...

But he _did_ feel a considerable amount of guilt at what he'd done—a feeling he hadn't entertained since she left—

And then stunning clarity happened.

Stop it.

 _Stop. It._

 _This is beneath you._

 _This isn't what you're here for._

Sasuke tipped back the last of the bottle into his mouth and set it down, body tired and groggy. Though his tongue felt like sandpaper and the looming hangover threatened his head, he set aside that ache in favor of resolve. Vigor. _Anger._

"Lord Uchiha. Pardon my interruption."

Those tired eyes of his slowly grated sideways, addressing—who was it? Ah. Sabaku's advisor—the name—he couldn't remember, really. Not while being this dizzy.

"Hn."

Baki seemed unaffected by the standoffish behavior. "I would advise you to prepare for the day." It lacked jibes in tone, but the Lord's gaze still narrowed. "Your party will be departing shortly."

Right. _She_ kicked them out didn't she?

"Then prepare the carriages for the long trip," he gruffly ordered, coming up to stand on two feet. His posture fell a bit slouched and he'd never been more thankful for the lack of people in the lobby till now.

Baki shook his head. "We will not be leaving." When the Uchiha King raised his brow, he continued with, "Lord Sabaku has requested an audience with Lady Haruno."

He stiffened down to the bone. "...And?"

"She has accepted."

* * *

The trek to the castle felt almost like eternity for Sasuke, when in reality it hadn't even reached full fifteen minutes a walk. Their selected inn was _that_ close.

After Baki went off to return to his Lord's side—likely with the Queen—Lord Uchiha was slow to move. Noise from upstairs told him the others were preparing already and by the squawks Naruto was making, he'd probably aggravated one Hyuuga this early in the morning.

Skirting past an open door, he'd caught sight of Shikamaru and Kakashi speaking in hushed tones by the far window, both ready to depart. Shikamaru'd given him a deliberate bow and Kakashi waved good-naturedly. He assented one nod and left as quick as he'd come.

Karin was in his selected inn room, still fast asleep and lying between sheets. Her frame graced the center of the mattress, likely keeping both sides warm for when he returned. Small regret nagged at him for not ever appearing in the night, but he brushed it away in favor of a shower and fresh set of clothes.

Even after that routine, she lied unmoving on the bed—only turned—with breathing low and constant. Without the heart to wake her, he brushed lips onto the temple and set aside a pouch and note for her to "enjoy herself in town. I will be in a meeting with the others." Satisfied and figuring he could make it up to her afterwards, Lord Uchiha stepped out of his room silently.

He'd almost run into another person on the way down the steps and instinctively moved back. Then the hairs on his neck stood to random attention when that stare of his clashed with frosty white.

Lord Hyuuga stood positively rigid in stance at the top of the stairs, one grip on the sword sheathed at the side, the other clutching the railing. His lips were low in a pressed frown, brow angling down at the middle. Exceptionally icy and sharp was his gaze, but the ever observant Uchiha spotted dimness beneath the eyes on the other man.

So he too wasn't able to sleep last night.

 _Why?_

"Lord Uchiha," Neji addressed formally, his words tight and pinched. Sasuke regarded him in much the same manner; neither moved to take the first step down the stairs. No one dared to break pose.

That is, until a moron in orange came flying out his door.

"Bastard!" he screeched in greeting, thumping an annoyed Sasuke on the back. He quickly reeled away, scrutinizing. "Damn, you look like shit."

" _Really,_ you're too kind," he replied humorlessly, irritated stare flickering to the amused Hyuuga. His warning glare did nothing to stop him.

"Well that's okay because _clearly_ we have good news!"

Lord Uzumaki cheerfully corralled Sasuke to his side via arm around the neck, tugging him along down the stairs. It was quite a sight to see: a rather eccentric, orange-clad lord pinning the "Fire-Breather" Uchiha by the neck, King Hyuuga in tow. Perhaps if there were occupants in the lobby by now, they'd be treated to a great show.

There was low laughter behind him and Sasuke twitched, recognizing the chuckling of Kakashi and the snorting of Shikamaru. Were they advisors or the personal audience to his irritation?

Naruto didn't seem to care, for he kept his arm good-naturedly slung round his shoulders. Even as they took to the streets and members of the populace recognized them for their opulent cloaks and golden insignias, he walked alongside Sasuke like they were mere civilian friends off to run errands.

"Y'know, imagine my surprise when I heard Sakura would see us today," he began randomly and Sasuke's stiffening went by unnoticed. Naruto's habit of addressing people so familiarly was so _annoying_ , especially with civilians murmuring furiously about what they'd overheard. The blonde touched his chin thoughtfully. "I wonder what suddenly made her agree."

"It was Lord Sabaku's doing," Kakashi quipped from his place behind the duo, next to Neji. Shikamaru on the other side nodded in confirmation. "Baki came by and informed us."

"Of course, you were too busy siphoning hot water from the shower to notice," Lord Hyuuga muttered disdainfully. Naruto huffed.

"Hey, I left some for you!"

A scoff. "Barely."

" _Besides._ Sakura's plumbing system is _insane._ " He pouted. "Even _my_ village doesn't have heated waters like here."

"That's because there are thermal springs in this village. Didn't you see them when we were entering?"

"Er... no... the fireworks, y'know, they were just too _pretty_ —"

Neji shook his head while Sasuke oh-so affectionately called him a nimrod. The blonde's yelp of indignation promptly stopped just as his best friend threw a glare at him. At this point, his attentions shifted to different, more _pressing_ matters.

"So bastard," he started, the entrance to the castle massive and close in view. "Where _were_ you last night? Your wife wouldn't stop screechin' and throwin' fits about it."

Lord Uchiha huffed. "I was where you left me."

"You stayed in the lobby that whole time?"

"Where else would I have gone?" he sniped, annoyed.

Could it be... he didn't know his way _around?_

The Uzumaki crown looked positively incredulous at the realization and Sasuke appeared extra weathered by it. " _Really?_ " he crowed. "But weren't you married to Sa- er..." His tone went hushed as civilians took second and third looks at them, their inclination to eavesdrop riddled with surprise, then recognition.

 _The dark haired one to match his eyes—yes, that's the Lady's ex-husband._

Sasuke felt his fists clench and unclench, thoroughly miffed. Naruto's surprise went unheard but understood.

 _You married her but never stepped foot in her kingdom?_

No, there was never a reason to. _She_ was shipped off to his kingdom and not the other way around, _she_ would take vacations alone and never asked him to come with, _she_ never said _anything._

So no, he _didn't_ know his way around—

Not that he'd ever admit to such a thing; he'd sooner whip his own back and take his own tongue. Again, there was that annoying, tethering guilt hot at his ankles and he fought them away as flippantly as possible.

"Do you feel regret?"

It hadn't been Naruto.

Lungs tight, Sasuke didn't need to look back to know it'd been Neji to speak. Volume low—so low, he would've missed it. In fact, he knew the others hadn't heard. If it weren't for their stepping through the castle's entrance, led and flanked by blood red and polished bronze knights, he might've snarled angrily at the tone Lord Hyuuga'd spoken to him with.

Accusatory was his voice. Mixed in with dry humor.

"No."

"But you feel guilt."

He refused to deign that with an answer, for it seemed Hyuuga's phrasing of a _comment_ rather than a question didn't need it. He'd noticed how particularly high-strung the brunette lord had gotten since entering the kingdom, but the almost accusatory nature of his words were hard to source.

What was up with him? Why be extra snippy?

Sasuke pondered on that like skipping a rock on a lake, feeling Naruto detach himself from his person and trail alongside the guards. The one on the front right—the blonde tried to talk rather amicably with him and much to his surprise, the young knight seemed more than welcoming in the conversation.

Long corridors stretched between them and their destination, opulent and rich not unlike their own abodes. Massive windows let in large rectangles of light, bathing every inch in a glow likened to noon-time, where the sun sat highest and hottest in the sky. Their curtains were drawn back, lush ruby red and lined with glimmering halcyon cord.

Various battle armors sat as displays, including the one of the late King Dan Haruno, nestled in a coveted crystal glass case at the place where the grand staircase forked on either side. Worn and war-torn, singed with fire, coppery with either blood or rust, it still bore the pierced chest plate where a sword had taken his life—right there in the middle of his Haruno circlet surrounding the Senju insignia.

Sasuke gazed at it a little long, but it'd been Neji who he caught pausing, bowing his head to the faithfully departed. By the time the Hyuuga resumed walk, Sasuke'd already looked away.

* * *

Young Lord Uchiha noticed the presence of...something. In the atmosphere of this castle.

Where his felt a little cold, maybe detached even, as he did his work and the staff steered clear save for Karin and Kakashi, this one felt warmer by miles.

Maidservants and manservants were running around, chattering but maintaining this grace. They shared familiarity between them, lacked hostility, lacked fear. They brushed alongside the royal party, bowing lowly, respectfully, and then muttering about doing this, doing that, never mad, never sad.

Like the village civilians, these people looked to be running simple errands rather than _serving a Queen_.

Looks were occasionally tossed their way, some lingering but never more. In a way, it both unnerved and confused him. It was like they knew a lot and they _showed_ it—but they never showed _what_.

Minutes fluttered by and the number of guards thinned to two leading the party. The one on the right was chuckling softly, the left (a man of middle-age and fatherly in nature) giving rambunctious jibes and teasing grins. Naruto looked right at home, having squeezed between them at the head of the pack. He was laughing, gesturing, telling stories and tales and—

"—and _then_ I knocked him onto his ass! King Bastard never saw it _coming_!" he hollered, and Sasuke stiffened. "You should've _seen_ his face when he figured out we were kinda close to the stables and what he fell in _wasn't_ just a pile o' dirt!"

The left man guffawed heartily. Lord Uchiha's temple twitched, and if the snickering behind him along with the vivid memory (and _taste,_ dear fucking _god_ ) of horse shit wasn't indication enough, then it was Naruto throwing not-so-secretive stares at him and unable to control his (manly) giggles.

 _No, Sasuke. Kill the Uzumaki Lord and you risk civil war._

He settled for a seething glare but it was like a barrier settled between him and them. So he tossed it back to a chortling Kakashi and Shikamaru (who deflected the looks). He ignored Neji's grossly amused smirk.

Lucky for him (and his pride), the group quickly fell upon two large cherry oak doors decorated with gilded handles and swirling designs. The two guards at the front knocked extra hard and seemingly heard an approval, for they gripped a bar each, bowed to the party, and drew the doors aside.

Large was the Senju Castle's great library; two floors-worth of shelved books and knowledge, with a balcony window stretching from floor to maybe two or three feet shy of the high ceiling. Right in front of it sat a large, leather-bound chair facing towards the outside. And right before _that_ stood three figures.

Lady Sakura gazed at the newcomers, conversation and a faint smile drifting away from her lips the more she registered her visitors. When her (greengreen _green_ ) eyes skittered across the party rather passively, she stopped at Sasuke's face.

His lungs compressed.

"Good morning," Gaara greeted from beside her. None missed the half-step he took away for space purposes. "I have already informed Lady Haruno of the situation."

"I apologize dearly for leaving you with the task, Lord Sabaku." It'd been Kakashi who spoke primly yet lightly, and when the pinkette turned his way, he bowed. "Milady."

She nodded, eyes warm with recognition. "Kakashi." The advisor's eye crinkled, no doubt grinning beneath that omnipresent scarf of his. "I can't say I've completely processed what this is about. Please." She gestured to the table on the side, simple and square shaped with six chairs, and meant to be a place where books could sit. "Have a seat. Baki, I apologize but do you think you can flag down Shizune for some refreshments? She shouldn't be too far."

Gaara's advisor simply acquiesced, inclining his head to both her and his lord before pivoting on his heel. The doors opened and closed softly.

As the gather of powerful people migrated to the table, Sasuke dimly understood that today was a momentous occasion, a piece of history that would soon join the hundreds of books in libraries much like this one.

The latest generation's Four Crowns of Fire Country stood in a single room (along with a fifth foreign one) not for the purposes of celebration nor a party. The reasons were rather grim and—now that he'd face them again—painful ones. Furious ones. The last time the cardinal horizons of this land were in a room like this, the Third Great War had broken out.

Today may precede a potential fourth.

Queen Haruno stood at the single head of the table, right across from Sasuke on the other side. Gaara sat on her right with Naruto beside him, Neji and Shikamaru opposite them. Kakashi stood faithfully next to his lord, thumb touching the pouch at his hip.

"Now that we are here," the reigning crown of this land began softly, still on her feet even as the men reclined. "I would like to apologize for my... less than hospitable actions last night." She didn't give Sasuke much attention during this, he noted absently. "It was a lapse in judgment and unbecoming of a Queen, and for that, I am sorry." Her tone shared no regret, but underneath lied a self-disappointment. Though still slightly uncomfortable, something about her seemed less skittish, less cautious.

It seemed Lady Haruno managed to put aside personal issues and come in at face value. Lord Uchiha picked this up quickly and forced himself to do the same because those greengreen _greens_ were spiraling him out of his thoughts.

"It's okay, Sakura," came Naruto's sheepish quip, and again Sasuke had to avoid glaring at the lack of formality. Really—the moron was too thick in the head to understand these things. "We _did_ kinda come short notice."

Rather than put off, she looked amused, eyes twinkling. "Naruto," she began rather fondly, and the blonde twit's ears reddened, "how _did_ you get past my walls? I don't think I remember sending out invitations to any of you in particular."

"Not illegally," Shikamaru inserted, and she switched gears towards him, beginning to smile. Neji's advisor gave an appraising look. "We're sorry, milady. We _did_ have a formal invitation though. Lady Hinata's forfeit of it went to us and naturally, we slid right on in."

" _All_ of you?"

His smile was crooked and amused. "We figured a couple plus-ones wouldn't do much harm."

"Ah, Shikamaru, I thought you of all people would've been smart enough to not anger a Queen," she teased, and Sasuke's eyes moved quickly between the people at the table in disbelief (he would've gawked if he were any less a man).

Kakashi and Naruto—he understood that, if not felt a little awkward at witnessing their familiarity. But _Shikamaru,_ too? Had they all gone and pursued diplomatic partnerships right under his nose? Was he fretting over their abilities to get along for nothing?

"Yes, well, the situation called for rather desperate measures."

Lady Haruno continued smiling easily, but the look in her gaze fell tight. "Lord Gaara brought me up to speed." Her flinty stare sought out Sasuke's and he subconsciously straightened under green scrutiny. "Is what he says true?"

"It is." His voice felt a little heavy, perhaps from disuse, perhaps from the alcohol. But the steel in his arms and the fire in his heart grew hot, reminded of the reasons he'd come here today. "He has defected... Itachi has joined the ranks of the Lord of Ame."

She didn't miss the acidic note on the elder Uchiha's name. "And you have come to me in search of an allyship."

"Ideally," Kakashi placated. "For one, Senju's medical prowess is unrivaled. Since we're entering combat—"

"Medicine and aid, yes." She nodded acquiescently—easily enough. "And what do you _mainly_ want?"

There was a lingering, awkward pause in the air at being caught out, and then the silver-haired advisor coughed.

"Well... We mostly seek the safe haven your walls may offer."

Her brows raised. "You wish to use my kingdom as a shelter for your people?"

"Suppose you accept our proposal, we ally, we go to war" Shikamaru began, " _our_ lands are in open air. If the battles get brought to our villages, our people won't be safe."

"You don't think your militias can defend your kingdoms well enough?"

"We'll try like hell, milady, but not everything can be accounted for. In the chances that we can't—"

"—pardon me, but the capabilities of Lord Pein's army—that should not be taken lightly," Kakashi gently interrupted, grateful when Shikamaru only nodded to pass the torch. "I trust you know him?"

She nodded straightly. "The Duke of Rain Country. The tyrant who assassinated its last ruler and stole the throne. The man who calls himself a God among kings. Am I correct?"

"Undeniably so."

There was a long-drawn look of analysis in her eyes—the same calculating gleam Sasuke used to see in the face of diplomats trying to strike deals but tougher, _harder_. It made the golden notes in her irises gleam in reflective lights, distant and piecing together scenarios faster than her lips could speak.

"And Itachi has joined his ranks."

Confirming nods circled the table.

"So you honestly believe a war's on the way?"

"Pein's not really a friend," Naruto added, grimacing. "He's never been happy with the royal system."

"And he made himself a king?"

"I think when he calls himself 'Lord Pein,' he means... like- like _Lord_ Pein."

 _God Pein. Almighty Pein. The Redeemer, the Savior. Your Nightmare and Salvation._

Oh yes, Sakura understood this complex. She'd seen it before in greedy men, but this one—this one had skill to match his mouth. That, in itself, was enough to start swaying her.

"What reason do you have to assume he'll target Fire first?" It was aimed at everyone but Sasuke chose to reply.

"Lord Pein raided the Southern Uchiha Kingdom," he started, his lips tight against his teeth. The recounting drew out fury and betrayal the more he remembered, the more he recalled. "He left few survivors and killed all in the castle, and according to the witness reports and my... scouts... Itachi aided him on the royal grounds. He left with Pein, likely after sending the document that relinquished his title and land."

"He attacked the southern kingdom first..." she echoed quietly, eyes marked by understanding, spiraling across the implications, the possibilities. "This isn't good."

"Clearly," Naruto mumbled, stuttering an apology when Gaara jabbed him in the rib. " _Er_ , well so I mean. Where do you think he'll go next? I doubt he's ballsy enough to recruit another one of us."

"He likely assumes we've already convened for retaliation," the red-head added. "He wouldn't come again."

Shikamaru nodded. "Agreed. Actually, I rather think Itachi was the definite last pawn for this."

Sasuke whipped his head around. "What?" But the Nara met him eye-for-eye despite their narrowed state.

"Kakashi and I were discussing it this morning," he said, gesturing with his head at the silver-haired advisor. "According to what we could scrounge up on the other experts in his army, they were recruited like they were spirited away. Stolen, kidnapped, bribed into joining. They were coerced into coming willingly and _quietly_ , without their home countries noticing. But _Itachi_?"

Kakashi unclasped the button on his hip pouch. "Itachi's spiriting away was turned into a show. A _message,_ if you will."

"They're coming for Fire. We're the strongest string of monarchies in all the Elemental Nations. Make a show of taking down the Uchiha kingdom and what do you get?"

"Fear."

"That's right." Shikamaru's brow frowned grimly. "You instill fear in the populace. You take down the strongest and the others will soon follow. That applies to both this country's kingdoms, and all of the countries in general."

"So it's simple theory," Kakashi remarked thereafter. "Cut the head off the snake, you kill the whole body. Destroy Fire, you can destroy _anyone."_

Naruto groused. "For _what?_ He gets off on fucking people over?"

Kakashi's eye crinkled despite the weight of the situation. "Power, Lord Naruto." It sounded so simple, so... so _nothing_.

Sakura exhaled softly, her first response in some time. "So..."

Eyes patiently turned to the Queen.

"Lord Pein... wants the fall of the monarchical system, and the best way to do that is to make the countries submissive to him. Once he gathers them all, he can... whatever- 'order' perfection." Then she shrugged. "Then we have a problem. In doing so, he makes a tyranny, and the so-called God becomes a hypocrite."

"Precisely."

"He'll be turning his man-made utopia into a dystopia."

"He will. But obviously that's not something he sees happening. His idealism blinds him."

She glanced at Sasuke again. And then she exhaled deeply.

"If that's the case, having Itachi on his side will not be good. No Fire kingdom is safe, and certainly neither are any of the nations."

"Shikamaru and I were able to gather knowledge on some of the bounties placed on Pein's specialized experts. Do you happen to have a royal advisor?"

She shook her head 'no'—their lands were so reclusive and peaceful, there was never a real need for one. On top of that, her and her mother's intellects proved to be all that the crowns needed (and Shizune's amazing inputs, truthfully).

"Then perhaps we can share those with you later?"

"Please."

By this point, listening emptily to the words thrown around and above him, Sasuke had grown thin with uncertainty and exhaustion. The weight on his shoulders felt significantly lighter now that he realized where exactly his... ex-wife... stood in all this. Not _by his side_ but _on_ his side—that was more than enough. It was more than he dared to have when first arriving here, anyways.

"Kakashi."

Advisor Hatake paused in his ruminations, glancing at his lord, then at his open (and forgotten) hip pouch.

"Ah, I apologize, Lady Haruno, but this is merely formality," he cautioned, withdrawing that parchment—that historical, _historical_ parchment.

Somehow, _someway_ , she'd grown softer in the meeting, maybe even comfortable. No—that was stretching it—but the tightness in her eyes lessened, the stiffness in her joints loosened, and a passionate fire for battle and protection grew warm in her core.

It was with pure honor and grace did she reach out to smooth the document before her, ink and quill ready, reading, signing her name, fulfilling the empty line—

"My Great Walls and my medical knowledge is yours. You have my word and the flame of my Will of Fire."

Lord Uchiha had grown so, so, _so_ fucking deeply relieved, he missed the fact the Lord Hyuuga hadn't spoken a word the whole meeting.

He'd only stared at the Queen.

* * *

 _ **Whaaaaaat**_ **—two stories updated in one day?**

 _ **J'ACCUSE.**_

 **Pfft, anyways, _oh my_ , this one's a rather long chapter. I couldn't help myself—that and I wanted all the conversation down in one place so we can glide along into the pre-war arc of the story :D **

**And oH MY GOD, THE START OF THIS CHAPTER, _URGH_ , IT'S MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE THING. _God_ , I have such a deep fondness for NejiSaku (and a fuckton of other MultiSaku pairings, shhh). Everyone important from the Narutoverse will show up though, so don't worry about that. They all play a part in the importance of the story/characters.**

 **Even Karin, whose role _you_ guys have mixed feelings for, but _she_ has something up her sleeve. There's a reason why she's there and all ;)**

 **Thanks for reading! This story is rapidly becoming a prized possession of mine and I sure as hell can't wait to smack all these chapters out for you and make it _the first_ thoroughly planned, written, edited, massive multi-chaptered story I've ever completed here.**

 **\- burrblefish**


	6. V Burgeoning

**Rated M for language and later content**

* * *

 **GLORY**

* * *

 **V. _Burgeoning_**

* * *

Double ruby reds cracked open, judging that the over-flooded brightness of sunshine outside the window meant noontime, perhaps just beyond lunch.

The sheets beside her felt too light and airy, and the mattress, cold and empty. Untouched.

So he never got to bed.

It was with a sigh that she drew herself up into sitting position, shaking firestorm hair loose from their low-pinned bun from sleep. It tumbled down a waterfall of red, and feeling for her regular wire-framed glasses, her clear gaze settled upon the little, bagged offering on the nightstand.

It's with a weary smile does she read the brief message: _"Enjoy yourself in town. I will be in a meeting with the others,"_ penned with a serpentine, cursive 'S' at the bottom. Weighing the thing between both hands, she judged the number of golden ryo coins, thinking in sardonic notes, _how sweet._

It _really_ was a shame—but the pinprick of guilt disappeared as quickly as it'd come in favor of professionalism.

Flipping aside the bedsheets, she glanced backwards out the window again, spotting the distant gates still open and people still crossing.

Well hell, had she not insisted on a specific point of rendezvous, she'd have one annoying time locating "minion-number-one's" whereabouts.

 _Let's hope he's still lurking around here._

She suspected it wouldn't be long before Sasuke'd send her back to the castle anyways, as much as it displeased her to be leaving him anywhere near the pink-haired troglodyte he called _ex-wife_. But he'd think his mistress would be safer there than here, and that bloomed a smile upon her sultry visage.

Undeniably, his heart belonged to the color red, _always._ It made things easier, and rather pleasurable along the way.

He'd always been _oh-so_ predictable.

* * *

Though the creation of their alliance was completed, a formal Declaration of War was still in the works.

Meanwhile, the five kings were allowed to remain within Senju castle even after the Great Walls drew to a close and life resumed without bright fireworks and dancers and entertainment in the village.

Mistress Karin departed three days after the written alliance was signed, traveling alongside Advisor Baki who split off at the border and made his way back to Suna to inform Lord Gaara's siblings of the current situation and arrangement of crown (Temari was a suitable queen for ruling in his stead at the moment). Meanwhile, Her Mistress Uchiha would fare safest in her kingdom where the clan Council and infantry would provide strong protection against most coming in.

One royal courier was sent to Lady Hinata, another to track down traveler Jiraiya in the hopes that he'd linger especially close around Namikaze in case anyone swooped in to snatch the throne.

On the fifth day of their stay, Lady Haruno asked for the presence of Lord Hyuuga and Advisor Shikamaru, much to Sasuke's displeasure and Kakashi's amusement.

"This is _my_ brother we're plotting against," he'd snarled angrily, irritated that even though there seemed to be progress on his and her's distance (at least for the sake of something greater than their broken marriage), she still cast him away.

"For you. For the rest of us, this is about Lord Pein, you know." Sasuke withered, feeling faintly scolded, like a child being corrected. "Shikamaru is going to get things done," Kakashi placated reasonably. "It's best we let them convene first."

"But th—"

"No dude." Naruto stopped him sagely, pausing his shared drinks with the Sabaku crown over a small table and a game of chess (of which the blonde was losing, might I add). "You're too hotheaded about this shit right now. Let the calm people talk first."

"It'd be wisest," Gaara conceded, snatching yet another pawn off the board much to Naruto's indignant flailing.

Sasuke spent the evening seething at a fireplace, lips kissing the rim of a whisky cup like a lover.

* * *

Advisor Shikamaru let a document fall open, parchments laid upon the table in the Senju war conference room. As he set the manila aside, Sakura shuffled between the papers, leafing through the multiple profiles as quickly as her fingers and eyes would let her.

The first of these were the reports on each of Lord Pein's experts in his infantry—nine in total aside from the Ame King, himself. Each were in charge of various sectors or positions of his court with their own set of high-class skills, own grades of lethality, own six to seven-digit bounties.

Every single damn one of them had a hefty price on their heads, constantly building the more they became of the unkillable kind.

They were beasts on a chain to the Ame King.

"So your previous plan of poking around the army," Shikamaru nudged on in referral to their last conversation, thumbing the corner of the documents that discussed the format and divisions of the infantry. "Elaborate, milady."

"If you remember what Shizune brought to us from a courier this afternoon, then we know there's been an increase in outlaw activity in Waterfall state, right above Uchiha land," she recounted, eyeing the paper Lord Neji was reading on the lower mercenaries rumored to be hired under Ame's arm. "I have my suspicions."

At her word, attention shifted and focused upon solely the Queen.

Shikamaru stared attentively, brow quirking. "On?"

"Why they're so close to the border of the _last_ place on earth they _should_ be at. Why they're moving eastward. Why there's so many."

Neji gazed, a little incredulous at the path her train of thought seemed to be taking.

 _Could it be?_

She hummed in confirmation, and the advisor's eyes flickered from his Lordship, over to the reigning queen, making connections himself.

It clicked.

"There's very little doubt in my mind that even _without_ a war decree, Lord Pein's been sending people out to camp nearby the Fire borders for invasion on a moment's notice. It's how a man like him functions."

There, she said it.

Both men fell into deep thought at that, yet she continued on with a suggestion of, "How about pressing the numbers a bit?"

The Nara's brows hit his hairline, a little befuddled at the sharp turn. "You want to launch attacks on Waterfall under mercenary suspicion? Your Highness, I don't thi—"

"No." She shook her head. "I want to launch attacks, but not in Waterfall. In our own territory."

"...For what purpose?"

"Statement. Protection. Rebellion against the rebellion."

Ah.

It dawned on the men.

 _Of course._

 _"I smite thee, for you smite me."_

Where Pein might think he had the up on them, he'd be direly proven wrong if the Four Seasons picked out a waiting invasion with their _own_ sneak attack. They'd be dancing around each other, weaving in and out of reach until it came time for the true fight between crowns.

Aside from a battle of swords, it'd come to be a battle of wits, too—the minefield of tactical strategy (especially combating an intelligent man such as the Lord of Ame) would prove itself invaluable.

Just as now.

Incredulously, Shikamaru muttered, "You want to start a war with a battlecry."

She smiled at their swiftness. "Exactly."

Her hands drifted across the cherry oak wood.

"How much they think they have the up on us, how skilled and unskilled—we test it, carve into the start of their militias and make a statement, poke openings in their fronts. Tell them that we _know_ about their plays and we'll meet _every_ single one, that if they ask for a war, they _will_ have it."

And all this from outlaw overactivity and the wish to one-up the enemy.

Smart.

Sakura nodded down to the profiles on the table. "Their specialists are one thing, but I doubt _that_ bunch is readily mobilized this early in conflict, so we take advantage of it and hit their silent brigade, show them that surprise is an element we are also well-versed in."

It was made clear to the advisor why she insisted on only him and his lord to be present; Sasuke wouldn't've seen the beauty of tactical silence and careful warfare. Most of the national conferences they attended for safety and militarial security often included him making plans filled with straight brunt and brawn. Kakashi was his better voice of reason.

Comparatively, the Hyuuga Kingdom knew when to wait and when to strike. Patience and mediation had always been their way.

Shikamaru inclined his head in understanding, and Neji made a noise of approval next to her, two pairs of eyes looking at the reigning Queen with renewed pride.

This was the brain of Her Ladyship, the once-upon-a-time esteemed "O Merciful."

How wrong such a name could be in the face of war.

"Then the battleplan?"

She smiled then, showing off perfect rows of pearly whites through petal pink lips, but the lit flame of impassioned victory ruled hot in her eyes. It was something that struck Shikamaru in slight awe, and when he glanced at Neji, the gaze was knowing and mildly secretive.

The lord pretended not to notice.

"Two points of attack," she began. With a sweep of her arm, she pushed aside documents to reveal the world map anchored behind a glass top on the conference table.

One finger lied on the upper east region beyond Namikaze borders, then another down, below the Southern Hyuuga Kingdom's land.

"My land on the western front has walls and stationed knights—since I'm technically the closest to Ame territory, they can't be stupid enough to try to hit me yet. Same with Uchiha—for the most part. It would make sense they'd go for who they haven't touched yet and cover the back end to corner us—hence, Hyuuga and Namikaze land."

And then her forefinger traced the perimeter of Fire Kingdom.

"Between the day Itachi defected and now, troop mobilization theoretically is possibly, especially if they're just outside our borders where we don't necessarily see them right away and they're not formal soldiers to stay off the radar. We have half the country on the coast—barricading the waters is a quick way of cutting war resources _if we formally declare now."_

 _If we_ formally _declare now._

Declaring war would make things definitive, including all overseas connections, enemies, and everything in between. It'd solidify their intentions for battle, which meant _anything_ was game, especially blocking the shores on account of cutting _war supplies_.

But without the declaration, there was still no such thing and the trade system and ocean routes were still free-reign. A blockade without reason was one thing; attacking various hidden posted enemy soldiers, however...

"This is, of course, pure assumption. We can still send out scouts from either kingdoms and have a courier confirm things, but the risks of getting caught can be compromising," she disclaimed. "I'm hoping their element of surprise can be one-upped by ours."

"I don't think that's necessary," Neji allowed. "Every one of our able-bodied fighters need to be prepared for stationing anyways; sending off soldiers won't be detrimental if no enemies are where we think they are. It's either this red card or the declaration." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter what comes first; there is war either way."

"Agreed." She smiled.

Meanwhile, Shikamaru whistled lowly at the unfolding plan, most possible scenarios coming up positive in his head. Assumptions or not, minor kinks aside, this was one hell of a start.

 _O Merciful, huh?_

"Milord," he addressed, and amused liquid mercury glanced his way, trains of thought parallel. "I have to say—the decision to come here was the best one made in a long time across these lands."

He chuckled, not at all missing the way Sakura looked at him. "I'll say."

"Well then, before we go any further, I think the rest of them should be here for this," the royal Hyuuga advisor decided.

He began slightly re-sorting the pages upon pages of information, sectioning off the experts, the infantry, the land layout, the mercenaries, the king. Nodding in direction of the door, the man drew his shoulders together and gave half a bow.

"If you will excuse me, Your Highnesses."

A tilting of the head from Lord Hyuuga was sent his way, and with that, he swiftly turned on heel and departed.

As the great gilded doors of the war conference room drew shut, Neji's stare averted from there, to here.

From war, to woman.

* * *

Lady Haruno stood hunched over the stack that discussed the infantry and the land layout, referring to it when her eyes weren't on the map. He took the extra time to let quicksilver roam upon her, the silence bearing witness to his (admittedly shameless) attentions.

The beautiful, rolling waterfall of amanthe—gentle and sweet and for once out of its kempt updos and braids—hung down her back, tied off low in similar fashion to his own, tickling her elbows, her waist—very much places he dimly wished his hands could be.

No longer garbed in expensive ballgown silk, she wore a floor-length daywear dress in a shade of palest lilac, mostly hidden by a long Victorian overcoat colored in creams and golds. Despite the lack of bodice-wear, it clung to the gentle, sloping curves that evidently showed him her femininity.

The sweet incline of shoulder to neck was a clear, peach-colored path that he distinctly remembered trailing tongue and fingers along, and vaguely, he wondered on the feel of it again. Was it just as soft? As smooth? Did it still taste especially musky and heavy when she sweat? Labored? _Passioned?_

 _Did she know what she did to him?_

It'd taken too much to refrain from pondering and yearning and reflecting in all this time closest to her, forefront of head flooded by the dreams—the _memories_ —that plagued him in his sleepless hours, and it proved only true that despite their parting, he was still every bit Temptation's slave.

He reached out, heading towards the outer curve of her elbow. When it was suddenly clear what his _stupidity_ was making him do, he dodged and plucked the paper closest to her hip.

It was like the action abruptly reminded the lady of her company and she stepped left, letting him flank her. A distinct heat bloomed at her collarbones.

They were alone and it wouldn't take much to make his resolve snap.

* * *

"This is a good plan," he started slowly, carefully.

Smooth was his voice, like sweet cream, unbothered and untouched by their predicament. If ever he wondered on her with thoughts on their history, he showed none of it.

Yet they both knew better.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, feeling his particular presence unfathomably close to her arm.

"Your tactical mind never fails to impress me, Milady."

At the gentle lilt of teasing, she fought to banish the quirk of her lip.

It failed as she claimed, "I strive to please."

And of course, just like that, awkwardness collapsed in on them, and she was quick to curse herself mentally.

 _Well hell_ —

"Is that so?"

She swallowed thickly.

 _Someone up there_ seriously _hates me._

"That is—" He let go of the paper and she feared looking at him, knowing where his eyes were, "—so…"

There was a low rumble in his chest, then in his throat, and the ghostly feeling on the back of her upper arm _was_ , in fact, his touch and not a trick of the mind.

She lured air between her teeth, painfully registering the turn of his body, the maneuver in physical language. Faint but vivid, a charge began sparking between he and her, and it'd been so fucking _long_ since—

"Sakura."

Low—lower and deeper than even the sea—was his voice, tongue rolling across the letters of her name sinuously.

 _No._

 _Think war._

 _Think tactics. Think strategy._

 _Think, think, thi_ —

He nudged aside the hair curling over her shoulder, exposing clearly the skin there. Goosebumps rose at his beck-and-call, and it's with running desire and low approval does he sigh at the reaction, pleased out of his mind like he'd been so long ago.

Lips lingered there, not kissing but nuzzling, and with lidded eyes and slowed gestures does she turn to address him and his affections, gazing into the melted mercury that his eyes created.

Her breath hitched under the gentle flex of his hand on her arm, stare heated, toe-curling and awe-invoking, and _..._

 _So fucking familiar._

Flashes of him above her, rolling in tempo with her every cry and whimper—of him below her, teeth gritted and eyes hot in concentration as if committing it all to memory—of him in her sheets, in her bath, between her hands and her legs and against her chest and whispering to her lips, her _heart_ , all the empty promises, the fulfilling nights, the- _the_ —

 _Think Uchiha._

It was like being straight _electrocuted_ by the gods themselves, for she stopped, wide-eyed. Her breath caught, blood rushing cold to combat the liquid fire that swam in her veins.

They'd gotten so incredibly _fucking_ close—so much that the press of muscle against curve felt so- _so comfortable_ —that her need to get away came in the act of wrenching her arm back.

Hurt flickered in his dazed, glassy eyes, before realization, recognition, self-deprecation, and resignation. All five happened within a second, and then he was adjusting himself, straightening, turning away.

It was in time, too, for the gilded doors were knocked upon, then aside, the very first face to appear being Lord Uchiha's.

Depthless black narrowed slightly, painstakingly aware of… of _something_ in the room, but unable to fully ponder on it, for the head of pink quickly stole away his attentions.

He zeroed in upon her expression, a convoluted mix of sudden surprise and indecipherable haze. Stalking into the room to make way for the others trailing behind him, he strode to the seat opposite of hers, standing and watching.

Advisor Shikamaru came around her, immediately engaging his Lord. With short reluctance, the moon-eyed man turned away to exchange brief whispers, missed by Sasuke's gauging stare.

"Sakura!"

Lord Uchiha glared at the bumbling ball of orange.

Naruto cared little about the daggers being tossed his way and concentrated more closely on the reigning queen, reaching over, out, snatching her in a bear hug.

Eyes snapped his way, and perhaps it would've been threatening had he not started clutching tighter, animatedly talking about how good the breakfast at the castle was.

Tension melting away, she awkwardly laughed as he gushed, "Your chef should meet mine! Chouji would _love_ some serious _mano a mano_ bonding between cooks!"

"I think that'd be fun. Maybe banquet style?"

He nodded furiously. " _Hell yes._ That's how we'll celebrate!"

"Well to get there, we'll have to—I don't know—start, perhaps?" Kakashi inquired, bopping Naruto on the top of the head with a rolled parchment. Gaara came through, chuckling as the blonde squawked fiercely about _"grey old men"_ and _"bastard, you better fuckin' punish your entourage._ "

"I suggest you keep quiet now," the redhead offered, lips quirking. As Naruto huffed, crossing his arms, the Suna King glanced on to the Lady, giving her a gentle nod of the head. She returned it in kind, smile on her lips.

"Well if people weren't being such _assholes_ —"

"If anything, you provoke them," Shikamaru swiftly interrupted, thereafter adding, "Milord," in a half-mocking manner. The blonde spluttered, indignant finger nearly slapping away the papers now in Neji's hands to point accusingly.

Ignoring the Hyuuga's withered look, he screeched, " _Why_ is no one _disciplining_ them!? _"_

"They're only stating facts, moron." Seething blue turned to smirking black. "As if you could get it through your skull."

"Nothing can get over that thick-head," Neji sighed longingly, "barely even his own shirts."

"Shame that he has to get necklines tailored for him."

"Y'know," Kakashi added easily, "maybe we should really give it up for Queen Kushina. Must've been hard pushing a large head like that out."

"Really? As if Queen Mikoto had it any easier, isn't that right, Sir Ego?" Neji taunted, smirk gleaming at the thoroughly ruffled Uchiha across the way.

"She must've gotten advice from your mother after pushing _you_ out," Sasuke sneered back, snickers coloring the room.

Sakura hid behind her hand, snorting with barely concealed laughter. Naruto roared to life in thunderous guffaws beside her, all at each other's expense. Even Kakashi deliberately chuckled behind that rolled parchment of his.

So it's then that the pink-haired ruler put her palms out to stop the onslaught of banter and bickering, despite grins and smirks still at home on faces.

Smiling nonetheless, she motioned for the newcomers to finally settle and take places around the conference table, gesturing to the papers peppering its surface.

"Now gentlemen," she started, mischief in deep streaks along her tone. "How do you feel about a borderside sneak attack?"

* * *

It's approximately three and a half weeks later that the two organized attacks were fully carried out.

Confirmation of suspicious activity along the coastlines came in the form of messenger horsemen convening by the Konoha Capitol.

At Namikaze's borders, Jiraiya was given the slip on the plan and organized with him a mild number of Uchiha's infantry. Mobilizing eastward, they met up with the nomadic sage and headed into Namikaze's territory.

The first order of business was alerting their harvesters, who would need to begin provision work in order to aid the oncoming battles. That included rounding up the winter-grown vegetables before the muggy summer and hot humidity wrecked their yield.

Secondly came the warning of villagers, who would no doubt begin to panic seeing smoke in the horizon. They were ushered inland, closer to the left edge of the town just in case problems arose. About half a dozen soldiers remained stationed near the civilians to provide protection furthermore, enough to aid in any evacuation, but not so much to cause a large scene. Suna would've done better, but transferring in the brigade past the borders would alert Ame.

Hyperaware of the various routes into and around Namikaze land due to traveling, Sage Jiraiya led the minor infantry upwards into the Whirlpool Mountains, betting on the idea that Ame would be on the other side, fully intent on using the cave systems to launch a surprise invasion at a moment's notice.

They never saw them coming, _especially_ from the sky.

A torrent of experts in armor proudly carrying the Uchiha fan let chaos rain and a clash of metal upon metal ensued. It was pure luck that this camp-out wasn't too high in numbers nor abilities, and with glory and cunning did the skillful infantry annihilate this borderside's enemy count; no survivors.

A billowing great-flag emblazoned with the curling symbol of Capitol Konoha was embedded into the ground amongst the carnage—a clear red card in challenge against _'God Among Kings'_ Lord Pein.

Jiraiya gazed on after weaving through enemy lines as they fell like trees in a forest, heartily laughing at the clumsiness. Opportunity truly waited for no one, especially the unprepared.

This attack was deemed a success.

* * *

The second happened within approximately the same time frame, right around when Jiraiya arrived in Namikaze.

Shikamaru was sent to carry out the Southern Hyuuga Border attack, which not only allowed him to pass through the North where Lady Hinata would be (to give information on any of their current and incoming plans), but to also alert both castles on beginning the preparation of the specialist divisions. The Hyuuga were notorious for their vastly traditional yet powerful ways, and it'd surely come in handy in the frontlines.

Taking with him a similar amount of infantry as Sir Jiraiya had, he encountered first his old mentor, Asuma Sarutobi, who offered to aid him in the sneak attack.

"Surely you'd need a little strength in numbers," the older man asked, sharing with his former student a tin of cigarettes hours before his departure. "I could come."

Shikamaru shook his head, flicking ash from the end of his roll. "This isn't meant to be a full-scale attack, Asuma. You stay here." Billowing smoke, he followed it with a, "You could call it 'poking a sleeping bear.'"

"You'll get bitten if you aren't careful." Sir Sarutobi put out his spent blunt, hunching over to stare at the clouds rolling beyond the coast. "A seaside attack?"

"Genius, isn't it?" The Nara slouched, following his former teacher's example. "Lady Haruno came up with it."

"Lady Haruno? Lord Uchiha's ex-wife?"

"That's the one." The younger man chuckled. "A head on her shoulders, she has. I have the sneaking suspicion that the delay in the formal Declaration of War might've been her doing."

Asuma whistled lowly. "Does it have to do with overseas trade?"

"The routes have no choice but to stay open," Shikamaru allowed. "It's not wartime, therefore the shores _technically_ can't be blockaded."

"Smart." And yet Asuma still shook his head. "But you still should be careful. As correct as you are, Lord Pein isn't necessarily going to be playing by those rules."

"As we suspected. That's why this attack scheduled against the shores will make quite the statement."

Shikamaru stretched his arms high, clambering onto his feet. His mentor once-upon-a-time did the same, and the two stood side by side, gazing at the clear blue waters shining grey with rainclouds.

"Any reports on the veteran division?"

"Gai, Hayate, and Genma are on standby here, and they're preparing the Hyuuga cavalry," Asuma replied. "Kurenai and Yugao are heading down from Lady Hinata's lands. Are there other specialists from anywhere else we should be aware of?"

"Uchiha Kingdom's Kakashi Hatake is certainly on our side, though he's on the part of advisor at the moment."

Asuma grumbled deep in his chest, remembering his old friend and the esteemed fighter. They'd been war veterans together all those years ago. To think they would witness another one in their lifetimes—it might've been considered hell on earth had the rush of battle not worn them warm with anticipation again.

"He mentioned some mercenaries. A Konoha-born duo that would aid us—for now we're still waiting to get in touch with them. Raido from Namikaze along with Inuzuka and Aburame scouts are being informed."

"What about Anko?"

"Anko Mitarashi?" Shikamaru paused, then shrugged. "Still AWOL."

Asuma hummed. And then he turned to his former student, hand on shoulder in a gesture most reminiscent of a father.

"Shikaku would have killed to be a part of this war council," he murmured fondly. "Rather than that sword, a heart attack would've sent him into the grave instead after learning his own son managed to pry apart Senju's walls. You know we always heralded it as a fortress?"

"That was when Lady Tsunade reigned," Shikamaru replied with a chuckle. "Father would've quite liked the new Queen."

"Do you?"

He didn't deign that with a reply.

* * *

That very same day, deep into the night when the coastal regions felt chilly with the sea breeze, Shikamaru launched his attack.

Gliding between the trees, dressed in garbs of beige and grey under Gaara's advice to match the white sands, they took to the shores. A moment of readying divided the time between arrival and commencement, used up by Shikamaru's steadily surveying eyes.

Empty did the beaches look, but observant and analytical was he, spotting the oddest little smudge in the horizonal distance. _Was there an island out there?_

But then the moment befell them and time was theirs and now, so he halted and filed away that thought, fist up to signal the beginning of their launch. A diversion tactic to get the spiders out of the woodworks was in order, and it's with a homemade prank bomb taught by Lord Naruto does the sneak attack erupt.

Unfortunately, later, it's with daunting realization that Shikamaru's prided critical eye belatedly notices the sheer _numbers_.

And it's with panic does he understand this might not work as intended.

 _They must've heard what's happening at Namikaze. That or they really wanted to start a fucking blockade. Where the_ hell _did this come from_ —

Well, shit.

From the waters and from overturned boats painted deep blue on the bottom did a hidden army come forth, outnumbering his small Uchiha infantry by nearly four to one. As skilled as his men were, there was no way they'd come out unscathed.

Halting the brigade, he ordered for retreat over the howling shore winds, the twangs of metal loud and abrupt as the waterside watchers eased onto shore, battlecrying at the night sky.

As the Nara-led minor Uchiha infantry broke back into the trees by the coastline, him mounting his horse, a piercing pain bloomed deeply in his left shoulder. It's his sharp yelp paired with another flying arrow at the hind legs of his stead does he get thrown overhead, shucked hard into the trees and snapping twigs along the way.

Multiple men under his direction stopped, yelling and calling for him but he threw his spare arm viciously, urging them to go anyways.

" _Twit!_ "

Galloping hooves circled his fallen form and it's with weary relief does Shikamaru look up and take the offered hand of his savior, who swung him harshly up and on his horse.

"I thought I— _ugh_ —told you not to come," he struggled to get out, wincing.

Asuma shook his head. "You're an idiot if you think you don't need me."

And so, injured, the second attack was deemed a failure.

* * *

With Shikamaru at the Southern Hyuuga Castle, a royal courier brought a message to Senju Kingdom one week later. The convening Lords and Lady were alerted of both the win on the eastern front, and the loss on the southern. At Neji's insistence and under unanimous vote, they resolved to exit the walls and head down to the latter. Shikamaru needed them—him, especially—and they all had to reconvene.

The party of royalty and their remaining advisors prepared for the journey.

It's with startling clarity does Sakura realize the true weight of such an action, especially as she sat before her mother, lips twisted flatly and eyes blank, yet steadfast. She'd just told her of their new plan.

The only other true time Queen Haruno had left her walls was that faraway portion of her life, devoted to the Uchiha Kingdom those years ago. All her life had been solely for and within these walls.

Tsunade stared back, stunning liquid amber eyes resembling the famed honey wine of the Senju. She had a cup of such a drink in her hands, the glow of her study's fireplace bathing everything especially golden and bright.

"Sakura..." The pinkette withheld a wince, fully prepared to take whatever possible criticism coming her way.

 _This is for the good of the people,_ she resolutely believed. _This is a battle we shouldn't run from._

"You're a ruler. Your word is law."

 _Yes, it_ — _what_ —?

Lady Tsunade chuckled at her daughter's bewildered look, setting her half-finished cup down. "It's your decision, is what I'm saying." She nodded her head. "If you need to go and protect your— _our_ —people, you go do it. Whether it's inside these walls or not, it's your decision."

"Mother, I..."

"Expected more of a fight?" The blonde woman sighed almost wistfully, gaze distant and given to the fireplace's embers. "My mistakes are your stepping stones, Sakura."

 _Mistakes?_

The current reigning Lady shifted in her seat, honey wine untouched and fingers tight on the cup's rim.

"You remember the Third War, yes?"

It was the last, most recent one, several years following her birth but not clear enough to her young head and eyes; the very same series of battles that claimed her father's life, amongst many other reigning crowns at the time.

"Yes."

"I..." Tsunade's brow furrowed at the middle, almost self-deprecating and angry. "When the war was declared, I...—I shut the gates."

 _...What?_

 _But why_ —

"It doesn't sound like a bad thing but, at the time? It was the worst decision to make." She frowned heavily. "Dan and I fought. I—I didn't want anything to do with that damned war. I wanted us to stay isolationist, stay out of the battle. It was how we lost Lord Tobirama—to a rampaging, belligerent fight. I couldn't stand the sight of blood again, Sakura."

The normally fierce, dutifully independent and femininely bright woman crumbled, wilting at the shoulders in self-defeat. Resisting the urge to embrace her mother, Sakura remained tactful and patiently listened instead.

"But Dan thought otherwise. He wanted to—to _help_ —said that the others were counting on us, and my god, the _pressure_ —"

Shakily, the woman put a hand to her head, tears forcefully withheld and blinked away. She inhaled deeply, expression pinching, swatting away the grief and sorrow.

"I let him go. I didn't... I could've provided back up. I had the medical knowledge and everything, I could've patched up that wound, but I wasn't there. I _didn't._ My husband—your father—he died bleeding out on that battlefield."

She shook her head then turned to her daughter, the look of sympathy and deep love just about bringing her heart to a burst.

 _Oh, my dear girl..._

"Don't make my mistake. Don't let this war reach the world. End it here in Fire," she whispered softly, forlornly. "You shouldn't be afraid to do what you have to do, even if it takes you outside these walls."

Lady Tsunade reached on, undoing the pinkette's grip on her cup in favor of looping slim fingers with slim fingers. Shakily, yet tightly, sweetly, yet passionately, from mother to daughter was bone-deep, world-weary new love formed.

"You promise me one thing," she remarked, unfettered eyes making contact with jewel-toned emerald.

It wasn't to ' _come back alive.'_ War and Death made no such promises. Instead—

"Take your father's broadsword."

* * *

 **I was drowsy off cough medicine writing this whole thing _and_ trying to revamp an older story of mine. I'm certain when I go back and check on this, I'll be like, "What."**

 **But still, oh _hell_ yes, _now_ we're entering the pre-war arc and I'm fucking _living_ for it.**

 **Just a heads up: I _did_ toss in some romance here with NejiSaku, but bear in mind that this story is also heavily drama and adventure-based. I _will_ , however, try to add more as we go so uh, y'know, look out for that. I'm also not a war/politics buff so er, good thing this is a fanfic AU and accuracy has leeway ahhh haahha—**

 **Next chapter, I'm thinking we'll peek into the other sides of the conflict, maybe throw some cute MultiSaku. There're a lot of small secrets and twists I'm looking to add over the course of the story.**

 **For those who care, BUTTERFLY will get updated sometime in the next week or two.**

 **So until next time—**

 **\- burrblefish**


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